


Faerie Tales for the Strong-willed

by orphan_account



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Almost Drowning, Faerie AU, Faerie!Suzy, More tags to be added, Multi, Seer!Arin, brief descriptions of violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-09-16 14:18:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9275780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Arin isn't sure what folklore calls people like him.After all, Arin doesn't consider himself anything more than just an average white guy living in the heart of Los Angeles. But what makes Arin unique is less of what he looks like, and more of what he sees.Because Arin can see faeries, and although he has long since gotten used to the pros and cons of his gift, his life is about to drastically change.And it starts with a kind stranger by the name of Dan Avidan.





	1. The Bridge

**Author's Note:**

> After 3 months of planning and 5k words of timeline preparation, I finally, FINALLY present to you
> 
> My faerie AU.

Arin is 25 when he is almost killed by something most humans don't believe exists.

 

The night is still warm under the last dwindling rays of the sun sinking steadily below the western foothills, the air thick with humidity and smog. Arin's hair is sweaty where it clings to his forehead, and he wipes it back with the sleeve of his sweatshirt as he makes the short trek to his apartment. He's returning from an emergency grocery run, after discovering the quivering asshole he calls a roommate had used up the last of the toilet paper without telling him. The plastic bag containing assorted snacks and a single package of baby carrots hangs from his right hand, swaying side to side as he walks. The grocery store was out of toilet paper.

 

Arin decides to take the shortcut through the plaza to get to 5th Street, that way he might be able so see if Walgreens is open at this time of night. He's pretty sure Walgreens sells toilet paper.

 

The plaza is almost entirely barren, and the street lamps have long since been turned on. It gives Arin an uneasy feeling, like he's the opening scene of a CBS zombie drama. In a small corner of his mind he silently mourns, because he knows Ross wouldn't be able to take care of his cats if Arin were to be devoured in a whirlwind of fake blood and sub-par acting. 

 

Amazingly, even though the absence of people is making him uneasy, it doesn't actually improve his morale when he spots the silhouettes of hooded teenagers leaning against the storefront of a closed Eddie Bauer. They catch him looking, and Arin walks faster. 

 

He thinks maybe he should call Ross, just to let him know his location. He imagines Ross will make fun of him for it once he gets home, but it couldn't hurt just to shoot a quick text. Arin reaches with his free hand to his back pocket-

 

-only to recall a vivid mental image of his phone, sitting innocently on the coffee table where he had left it before passive-aggressively slamming the apartment door closed. Arin inwardly groans.  _ Out of all the days _ , Arin thinks as he nervously side-eyes the teenagers. Except, hang on a sec, weren't they just in front of the outlet mall? Arin cranes his head around as he does a quick sweep of the plaza, spotting no one except the distant cars on the freeway and a couple pushing a stroller about a quarter mile away. With a sinking feeling in his gut, Arin fists his free hand in his pocket and cranks up his stroll to an almost-speedwalk. 

 

The concrete of the plaza tapers off into a brick staircase that lowers into the grass of the surrounding park. The park is also uncharacteristically barren, save for a few dozen pigeons, and is bisected by a sizable river. Arin is close enough that he can hear the rushing current churning against the rocks, and he is laser-focused on getting to the bridge as quickly as possible.  _ Screw Walgreens _ , Arin thinks as he crushes a few stray twigs underfoot.  _ Ross can get his own damn toilet paper. _

 

Just as he sets the first step on the concrete bridge, Arin hears the telltale snap of a twig breaking under a foot that is not his. Whirling around, Arin is greeted with the sight of an empty park, and a couple startled pigeons taking to the sky. Swallowing hard, Arin scans the scene one last time before turning and continuing his march home.

 

Except for the fact that, at the end of the bridge on the other side of the river, Arin's path is blocked by a tall figure in a thick black parka. Startled, Arin takes a quick step backwards, only to have his back meet something solid. Like a startled deer Arin jumps forward, turning to see a near-identical figure much closer than Arin would have liked. 

 

As Arin looks wide-eyed at the face of his pursuer, dread sinks low in his stomach as he realizes his situation. 

 

Because the face he looks up at is decidedly  _ not human _ , and Arin is having a small suspicion he just might be  _ totally fucked _ . 

 

“H-hey, look man, if it's my wallet you want you can take it,” Arin rasps with raised hands, being edged to the center of the bridge between the two figures slowly closing in on him. At last one of the two speaks.

 

“ _ Your kind _ don't deserve to walk free,” slurs the one in the parka. “It's disgustin’” They have an accent Arin can't place, but of all the things Arin is worried about, the linguistic region his attackers descend from is not one of them.

 

Faeries, Arin has learned over the years, get very violent when intoxicated.

 

Through his haze of growing panic, Arin wills himself to  _ think dammit Mimi needs you home in one piece _ . The two faeries are tall, but only one is taller than he is, and not by much. Neither of them look particularly strong, but Arin knows from experience how misleading appearances are where magic could be involved. The one in the parka has fangs, while the other has talons, and Arin decidedly rules out taking the two of them in combat.

 

Arin is going to have to rely on his impeccable charisma.

 

“Fucking hell, please don't hurt me,” Arin quietly begs, glancing back and forth between the two like he's watching a ping-pong match. 

 

“Shut the fuck up peeper,” the previously silent one growls. Arin swallows hard. The fact that they hadn't just pummeled him already means they're toying with him, which means there just might be a chance to bolt if he times it right. 

 

They're almost upon him now, and Arin can just make out the low, guttural purrs they're both producing; like panthers descending on prey. Backing up against the rail, Arin sucks in a deep breath before breaking into a sprint.

 

Arin doesn't even make it two strides before talons are digging into the fabric of his hoodie, jerking him back painfully. He doesn't even get a chance to struggle before the one in the parka has him in a headlock, their screeching cackles painfully close to Arin's ear. 

 

“B,” hisses the taloned one merrily. “B, d’ya reckon this peeper can swim?” 

 

The one in the parka- B, Arin assumes- whistles melodramatically as Arin is dragged to the bridge’s guardrail. 

 

“Guess we’ll find out, eh?” 

 

Arin’s desperate struggles do nothing to deter unnaturally strong arms from wrapping around his legs and waist and hoisting him up off the ground. 

 

“Fuck, fuck, please no no no  _ stop! _ ” Arin gasps, fingers uselessly trying to pry the thick arms from his chest. 20 feet below, Arin can hear louder than ever the frigid current churning ceaselessly. He risks a glance over the rail, and his stomach  _ turns _ . Suddenly Arin is lowered and, with a great heave from the two faeries, hurled unceremoniously to the river below. By the time it even occurs to Arin to scream for help, he’s tumbling headfirst into the freezing water.

 

\-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

 

“Arin. Arin, look at me.”

 

It’s a feminine voice, and one he knows all too well.

 

He’s not sure why he refuses to make eye contact, but he keeps his gaze firmly trained downwards. He should probably be seeing his feet, he thinks distantly, but it doesn’t bother him that he doesn’t find any. Instead, all he sees ratty hardwood floor. For some reason he can feel each scuff in the wood, despite his previously noted lack of feet. This does bother him, because the slivers are starting to make him uncomfortable.

 

It’s quiet for a few seconds, and then a hand is cupping his jaw, and tilting upwards. “ _ Suzy _ ,” He breathes as his brown eyes meet bright green. Suzy smiles at him, a sad, pained parody of a grin. She doesn’t have any makeup on, and her dark hair pools unstyled around her shoulders. She looks ethereal, and for a moment Arin can’t think of a single thing to say.

 

“Listen to me, it’s important that you listen to me,” Her tone is urgent, but not devoid of warmth. Arin can see the concern written clearly in her eyes, and he can only nod dumbly and wait for her to continue.

 

“I love you,” Suzy says. “Your parents love you. Your brother loves you. Ross loves you.” At the last part, Arin’s brow furrows in confusion.

 

“How… how do you know Ross?” Arin asks, and although it is dark, the edges of his vision start to become blurry. “Did I… I never told you about him, did I?”

 

“That’s not important.” Suzy grabs both of Arin’s shoulders firmly. An unknown pain blossoms in the back of Arin’s head, and Arin groans in response. 

 

“What’s important right now is you need to wake up.” Arin is finding it increasingly difficult to breathe. In front of him, Suzy is harder to see as his vision swims, but she begins shaking him from where her hands grip his shoulders.

 

“Wake up Arin. Wake. Up.”

 

“...ey… Hey! Wake up! Fuck, c’mon man, please wake up.”

 

Arin’s eyes fly open, and he almost immediately turns on his side and dry heaves river water. The first thing he registers is that his throat and chest  _ burn like a motherfucker _ while the rest of him is freezing cold. He blinks in rapid-fire, desperately trying to clear his vision as he splutters uncontrollably onto the grass beneath him.

 

He belatedly recalls the feeling of hitting water, and subsequently hitting his head rather hard on one of the many boulders at the bottom of the river. Reaching up to cradle the back of his skull, Arin doesn't feel the warmth of blood- which is a relief- but doesn't rule out the very probable possibility of a concussion. 

 

Arin jumps at the feel of a hand on his bicep and scrambles to sit up and get his bearings. It’s far darker than he remembers it being, and he desperately looks around to get some semblance of where he is. The sight that greets him is a man he's never seen before, kneeling in the grass next to him with his hands raised in solidarity. Patience and concern are written clearly in his face and posture, and Arin deems it safe enough to lower his hackles. “What-” Arin begins to say, but finds his throat is more sore than he thought, and has to spend a good few moments hacking up residual water. 

 

“What happened?” Arin rasps after clearing his throat for the third time. 

 

The man looks like he wants to reach out to Arin, but instead only offers an intense look of concentration. “You fell into the river,” He answers softly. “I… think you may have been pushed over the railing?”

 

Arin ducks his head and sighs, repressing a shudder. “Yeah I… I remember that, but-” Arin takes a pointed look around at the surrounding area. He doesn't recognize this part of town, and that makes the growing knot of anxiety in his gut that much heavier. “-how did I…?” Arin trails off, shooting a quizzical look at the man.

 

“Oh, I, uh, saw you in the river and pulled you out to see if you were okay.” In his lap, the man's long, thin fingers tap nervously against his bent knees. “Is it okay if I check for a concussion? I think you might have hit your head on the rocks.”

 

Arin is quick to agree, because he's worried about that himself, and he finds that he genuinely trusts the man.  Arin sits patiently as the man briefly pats his pockets. “Well, I don't have a flashlight on me, could you look at that streetlamp real quick?” Arin complies, and tries not to be weirded out by the man staring at his eyes. 

 

“So you… saved my life pretty much?” Arin asks, turning back to face the man.

 

The man quirks an odd smile, which Arin can't help but find endearing. “I wouldn't exactly say that, but I probably didn't hurt your chances. What day is it?” The man adds the last part like an afterthought, idly searching Arin's face for signs of discomfort.

 

“Uh… Friday. April. I dunno the date, but I'm pretty sure that's less the concussion and more me being stupid.” At this the man laughs, but the concerned quirk in his brow never leaves.

 

“Well what's your full name then?”

 

“Arin Hanson,” Arin says, and he doesn't quite remember when he started smiling. “And you?”

 

“Daniel Avidan. Friends call me Dan. Can you stand?” Dan rises from his kneeling position-  _ christ,  _ since when did they even  _ make _ legs that long- and offers Arin a hand. Dan's hand is much warmer and drier than Arin's.

 

Arin's legs are shaky, but he walks well enough that Dan doesn't need to support him all that much. Still, Dan places a hesitant hand on the small of Arin's back in case he slips. 

 

“Thank you,” Arin says, feeling the most exhausted he's ever been in his life. “For, y’know. Saving my life and everything.” 

 

Arin watches bemusedly as Dan tries and fails to smother a smile. “It’s no problem,” Dan replies. “I'm just. Glad you're okay. You looked like a goner there for a minute.” 

 

Arin looks at his feet as Dan guides the two of them towards the street. “Yeah…” Arin mutters. In his mind's eye he sees the sky, and how it felt as it rushed away from him when he fell to the water. He remembers hearing nothing, and then the deafening crack of the surface tension breaking. He remembers cold smiles and too-rough hands. He remembers-

 

“Hey. You're shaking,” Dan says firmly, clasping a steady hand on Arin's shoulder. “If you're cold you should take off your sweatshirt. If it's wet it's not doing you any favors.”

 

“I'm not cold,” Arin rasps, stopping again to clear his throat. Dan gives him a long look Arin can't decipher.

 

“What happened on the bridge?” Dan asks bluntly, but not forcefully. Arin rubs his arms.

 

“I… got my groceries stolen.” It isn't a total lie, assuming the faeries hadn't just left the plastic bag after tossing Arin overboard. 

 

“Do you need me to call the police?”

 

“No!” Arin blurts before quickly correcting himself. “No. It's. I don't think it'll do me any good.” 

 

Arin expects Dan to push it, or maybe ask for clarification, but instead he only stares, pressing his lips to a firm line.

 

“Okay,” He says quietly. “Do you need me to take you to the hospital?” 

 

Arin shakes his head. “I'm tired. And my head hurts. I have a bed and painkillers at home.” Dan nods, continuing the walk to the nearest sidewalk. 

 

“Can I walk you home? Make sure you get back okay?” 

 

Arin opens his mouth to decline, but then he remembers the faces of the faeries, and he swallows hard. 

 

“I'd...really appreciate it. Thank you,” He wonders if he sounds as scared as he feels.

  
Dan smiles reassuringly, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his ratty jeans. “No problem.”


	2. The Third Wheel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ross takes Arin out to a fun bar show. It's a special occasion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up there's kind of a drop in quality from the last chapter to this one. You have been warned

“Mimi, please,” Arin groans, pushing away his cat as she kneads his shoulder. He feels sore, and closing his eyes has never sounded so appealing. But Mimi is persistent, and Arin has a sinking suspicion he forgot to feed her last night before he passed out like a drunkard. “Alright, okay, okay. I'm up. I'm up.”

 

It’s too bright in Arin’s room for it to be any earlier than 10, and a glance at his alarm clock confirms he nearly slept till noon. The tongue running over Arin’s unbrushed teeth feels too thick, and the pounding in his head only gets worse as he clambers out of bed and down the hall. He makes a stop at the bathroom to take an Ibuprofen and brush his teeth before refilling Mimi and Mochi’s food dish. Ross is nowhere to be seen, but after a quick investigation Arin finds a scribbled note on the kitchen counter.

 

OUT RUNNING ERRANDS

 

SORRY I INADVERTENTLY ALMOST GOT YOU KILLED

 

I LEFT MACARONI ON THE STOVE

 

XOXOXOXOXO

 

It’s enough to make him smile, even huff out a short laugh through his nose as he moves to pull a bowl from the dishwasher. The macaroni is cold, and there’s still chunks of powdered cheese because Ross never stirs it enough, and Arin thinks it’s perfect. As he folds up in the crook of their futon, he turns the TV to a random PBS channel and eats his lunch in comfortable silence. As Mochi busies himself with attempting to climb onto Arin’s lap and a pleasant elderly woman teaches him to make salmon, Arin slowly begins to tune out.

 

_ “Jeez, I didn't realize it was such a touchy subject.” _

 

_ “Oh it is, Dan. Do you know how hard it is to find jeans in my size? Go fuck yourself.” _

 

_ Dan's laugh is infectious; a genuine wheezy giggle bordering on musical.  _

 

_ “Preaching to the fukkin choir man. You see these Levi's? They're not capris, they're just made for humans and not giraffes.” Dan sticks out a leg for embellishment, showing off the strip of exposed ankle above his sneakers. _

 

_ “Oof. Sexy.” Arin grins, shaking out the collar of his shirt in mock flusterment.  _

 

_ “Shut up,” Dan giggles, giving Arin the lightest of shoves.  _

 

_ What follows is a long stretch of comfortable silence, permeated by the rush of adjacent cars and music playing from bars they pass. It's oddly comforting, Arin thinks as he looks up at the LA night sky. He can't see the stars through the clouds, but the moon is nearly full, shining proudly over the silhouettes of distant skyscrapers. From the corner of his eye Arin risks a glance at Dan, and takes a minute to really look at him. _

 

_ The streetlights cast a sort of halo-effect against his cloud of dark, frizzy curls, and outline the curve of his long nose and chin. His face is relaxed, eyes contemplative as he looks somewhere far ahead. He's handsome, and Arin would be the first to admit it, but he’s attractive beyond his appearance. Dan seemed to have a natural sense of openness and humor, something about the curve of his smirk that draws Arin in and makes him want to find out why he bounced on every step like gravity worked a little less on him.  _

 

_ His thoughts are cut off by a loud grumble from his stomach, to which Dan shoots him a knowing smirk. “Is that so?” He smiles. _

 

_ Arin sighs, placing a hand on his gut. “I bought ho-hos and crackers, but wouldn't ya know it, they got stolen.” _

 

_ Dan gives him a sympathetic pat on the back. “That's rough buddy.” _

 

_ Arin smiles weakly, replacing any kind of response with a small shrug. He looks down at his shoes, the same worn sneakers he’d shoved hastily on his feet before leaving the apartment just a few hours ago. Looking over at Dan’s feet, Arin sees Dan’s shoes are clearly visible given his too-short pants. But then, Arin notices something, and his eyebrows draw together slightly. Although he had dried considerably during their short walk, Arin’s clothes were still dark and clinging to his skin. But as Arin searches for a line where Dan’s jeans might’ve become wet from wading in the river, he finds none. Dan, Arin starts to realize, is actually completely dry. _

 

_ “Hey, is this you?” _

 

_ Dan points questioningly to a squat apartment complex, effectively drawing Arin out of his thoughts. _

 

_ “Oh, yeah. I better make sure Ross didn’t kill my cats while I was out.” _

 

_ Arin turns to Dan with an odd sense of finality, looking into his clear brown eyes. “Thank you,” He says softly, hoping he sounds as grateful as he feels. He wants to elaborate, tell Dan just how weird it was to think that without him he might be dead, but he doesn’t want to bother him any further than he already has.  _

 

_ Dan returns the sentiment with a smile. “Anytime.”  _

 

_ Arin pauses for a brief second, before surprising both of them by wrapping his arms around Dan with a short squeeze. For a split second he thinks he might have crossed a line, but then Dan gives him a soft returning pat on the back and grins as they part. _

 

_ “See you around,” Arin says as he makes his way to the door of his complex. Dan simply waves, before pulling out his phone to presumably call a taxi. With one last lingering look over his shoulder, Arin opens the door, and shuts it behind him. _

 

“Honey, I'm home!” 

 

Arin doesn't bother looking up from his meal as he hears the rustle of bags and the plink of Ross’ keys dropping on the kitchen counter. Mochi leaves his side to investigate the newcomer, who bounds around the couch to talk to Arin.

 

“Hey Arin guess what.” It's said in one breath, like  _ heyaringuesswhat _ , which is enough for Arin to look up and quirk a brow. 

 

“You're getting a vasectomy,” Arin guesses, mouth full of cheap pasta.

 

“Close, but not quite.” Ross leans in, propping an arm up on the side of the couch. “I met a  _ girl _ at the laundromat today.”

 

“Awww, did Ross make a new friend? That's so sweet.” 

 

“I was putting my dark load into the dryer, and she had the one next to me, but then she realized she didn't have enough change. I lended her- get this-  _ 75 cents _ .”

 

“Woooow, flaunting the cash early. Did she beg you to be her sugar daddy there, or did she wait till she saw your anime expo t-shirts?” 

 

“Actually, Mr. fukkin dickface, Holly happens to be a cosplayer. And I wouldn’t be surprised if she had a few anime expo t-shirts herself.”

 

“See, namedropping isn’t going to convince me that this is a real person and not a wet dream you’re confusing with reality.”

 

Ross snorts, making his way around the couch to heavily plop down next to Arin. “Well this isn’t going to help my case, but she’s also an elf.”

 

This makes Arin pay attention, both eyebrows coming up. “Seriously? Don't see too many of those this side of the Rockies. What's she doing so close to the coast?”

 

“I don't know, I didn't exactly get a chance to ask. But I did get her number, so maybe if I play my cards right I can ask her over coffee or something.”

 

“Huh. Wouldn’t hold my breath on that one, but here’s hoping.”

 

There’s a breath of silence as Arin eats and Ross absently picks at a seam in his jeans. On the screen, the woman takes out a pre-prepared dish from her designer oven, all smiles as she gushes over how lovely the dish smells. 

 

“So how’re you feeling? Your head still giving you trouble?” Ross asks, just a touch too quiet for Arin to take his words at face value. Arin wants so badly to give him shit for it, maybe make him pay for all the toilet paper from now till the end of time. But Arin can tell Ross already feels stupidly guilty, even if he tries his hardest to downplay it. And if he’s honest he doesn’t really blame Ross for what happened, so he decides to let it go. Maybe he’ll bring it up in a few months, a convenient sort of blackmail in case Ross gets a little too much to handle.

 

“Just took an Ibuprofen. I’ll live,” he says simply, glancing up to give Ross the barest hint of a smile. In the corner of his eye he sees Ross relax ever so slightly, and his smile grows just a little bit. “Thank you for the macaroni.”

 

“Don’t mention it,” Ross mumbles, rising from the couch to finish putting away whatever it is he brought home.

 

_ “I adore fish,” _ croons the TV.  _ “Perfect for any occasion, and so delicious! Pair this dish in particular with a nice chardonnay and have a lovely get-together with friends. Next up, I’ll be making a delicious angel food cake your guests will love.” _

 

Distantly, Arin wonders how much salmon costs.

 

\-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

 

By the time Wednesday rolls around the fiasco in the park is just an unpleasant memory, Arin's headaches having cleared up and the dust having settled between him and Ross. For the sake of his own security, Arin decides to forget the whole thing ever happened.

 

Well. Most of it.

 

Arin isn't sure if he could forget Dan if he wanted to.

 

Although most of the finer details of his features have been forgotten over time, the sound of Dan's melodic laughter had stuck with Arin like a catchy song he just couldn't forget. He wonders, not for the first time, what might have happened if he was as brave as Ross. If he had asked the man who saved his life if he could have his phone number. As the days pushed on the hesitant parting hug they had shared felt more and more like a missed opportunity.

 

By Friday Arin starts to wonder if maybe he'd dreamt the whole thing.

 

It's late in the afternoon as the California rain beats ceaselessly against Arin's bedroom window, the distant roar of winds coursing through palm trees barely audible over his tiny portable radio. He's working on a keyframe of a new animation, something simple that he doesn’t have to think so hard about. It's relaxing in a familiar way, like taking a nap in your childhood bed. 

 

“Psst. Hey Arin,” At the sound of a knock at the door Arin looks up until Ross peeks his head in. “Do you by any chance wanna go out tonight?”

 

Arin raises a skeptical eyebrow, pointedly looking to the roaring downpour outside. “What for?”

 

“Holly just texted me, said one of her friends is performing tonight at a bar downtown and she said it'd be really cool if you came with us.”

 

“So you want me to third wheel for you?”

 

“It’s won't be just me and Holly,” Ross is quick to correct. “A whole bunch of us are going. It'd mean a lot to Holly and her friend if you showed up.”

 

Arin gives Ross a long look, casually biting the inside of a cheek in thought. He didn't really have anything going on tonight, and the bar could be fun. Then again, he had just gotten his room to the perfect temperature, and had just gotten into a creative groove.

 

“If you come I'll pay for the food,” Ross adds quickly, just the barest hint of pleading in his eyes.

 

Arin sighs, setting down his pen with an affirmative  _ click _ . “Lemme grab my coat,” Arin mumbles, lifting himself reluctantly out of his chair. Ross grins broadly, shooting Arin a dorky thumbs-up. 

 

“We're gonna have fun tonight, Hanson.”

 

\-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

 

The rain is still coming down strong as Ross and Arin walk up to the storefront of the bar, the commotion inside barely audible from the street. A petite woman is waiting by the door, and from the way Ross reacts Arin can safely assume this is Holly.

 

Holly is all smiles as she hastily wraps her arms around Ross in greeting. “I'm so glad you could make it!” she says warmly; a stark contrast to the cold rain pelting their respective umbrellas. 

 

Holly's hair is a dyed pink, Arin notes as she pulls back to face him. Her round face is framed by pink curls and two long, pointed ears as she smiles up at him. “You must be Arin,” Holly says, holding out a hand to shake. “I'm Holly, super cool of you to come out and see the show!”

 

Arin offers a smile in return as he shakes her hand. “Well, Ross said he’d pay for the food, ergo, here I am.”

 

“I understand completely,” Holly says with a smirk, wrapping a small hand around Ross’ elbow and guiding the two of them inside. “You guys are the first to show up, but the others should be here soon. The show should be going on till midnight.”

 

The inside of the bar is large but slightly cramped, with many people occupying tables stationed near the entrance. In the very back is an elevated stage, occupied by three performers. A larger concentration of people are standing in front of the elevated stage, clustered together and moving lethargically to the music amplified by overhead speakers. Besides a few stray patrons locked in private conversation, the band in question has the full attention of the bar, including the employees. 

 

Front and center is a young siren, singing something slow and soulful accompanied by the guitarist and pianist stationed behind him. Even under pink and green lights Arin can tell his skin is tinged turquoise across his cheeks and neck, and his fingers are webbed where they wrap around the microphone in front of him. From beneath his hair, long, translucent fins splay out on either side of the siren’s head that occasionally sway and flick to the beat of the music. 

 

Arin notices absolutely none of this however, because from the second he walks into the bar he only notices one thing. He hears Ross’ impressed cooing, followed by “I've never heard a siren in concert before, that's so rad!” but the words fall on deaf ears as Arin stares wide-eyed at the stage.

 

“That's him,” Arin whispers, blindly grabbing Ross’ arm.

 

“That's Dan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The line referencing pants made for humans not giraffes comes from Hurricane by JumpingJackFlash, I just though it fit so perfectly lmao. I really wish I could take credit for that one.


	3. Sugar Fish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit I uploaded this chapter to Wattpad like a week ago and completely forgot to post it here I'm so sorry haha

Arin can feel the bass of the music in his feet, his hand numb where it clutches the fabric of Ross’ jacket in a death grip. He hasn't taken his eyes off the stage, but he can sense when Ross turns to face him. 

 

“...Dan who?” Ross asks, loud enough to be heard over the music.

 

“ _ Dan _ Dan, the guy who walked me home.” 

 

“You didn't tell me he was a siren.”

 

“Because he  _ isn't _ .” Arin finally looks at Ross, wide-eyed and thoroughly confused.

 

“Wait, do you guys know Dan?” Holly cuts in, curiosity obvious in her tone.

 

Arin opens his mouth to speak, but then he looks up as the song shifts into the chorus. It's a dazzling display of lights and sounds- everything you might expect from watching a siren sing. Ross is right, it is rad.

 

“N-no, I… guess I don't,” Arin replies, before he is led by Holly to a small table it looks like she had claimed.

 

There's a strange sort of atmosphere around the table as the three of them listen to the performance. It's immediately captivating, that goes without saying. But the added element of trying to figure out  _ how the fuck Dan is a siren _ left Arin reeling in many ways. Over the next hour a few more people arrive to sit at their table, mostly faeries and their dates. Holly greets them much the same as she did Ross and Arin, chattering quietly about their new haircut or how I didn’t expect you to show up, my god Christie it’s been forever! Arin would usually be uncomfortable in such proximity to so many strangers, but he feels oddly calm as he listens to the ebb and flow of the music.

 

The song picks up to something quick and light, making the dancers bounce and grin. Arin catches himself once or twice bouncing his own foot along to the rhythm, and he looks over to see the other members of their party in a similar state. He’s still perturbed, but after Ross orders them some mozzarella sticks he loosens up enough to at least enjoy the music.

 

The night is fleeting, each song fading into the last until the night has already passed in a dazzling show of lights and too-sharp teeth. 

 

“The shows almost over,” Holly says softly, and Arin looks over to see Ross conked out, leaning heavily on Holly’s side. Holly does not look like she minds. 

 

“Will you be staying after the show to talk to Dan?” Arin doesn’t know why he suddenly sounds so eager, but he hopes Holly doesn’t notice.

 

“I’m actually-” Holly cuts herself off with a long yawn. “I’m actually kinda tuckered out. I think I’m gonna go home here in a sec.”

 

Arin subtly bites his cheek, thinking this over. “If… If you wanna take Ross home you can. We took the bus here and I was kinda planning on staying.”

 

Holly looks puzzled, but doesn’t question it further. Nudging Ross with her shoulder, Holly gently pats his face. “Hey. C’mon, let's go.”

 

Ross and Holly are not the first to leave. The crowd, including most of Holly’s friends, has thinned quite a bit as the clock nudged closer and closer to midnight, leaving only a few dozen people swaying drunkenly to the music. Arin doesn’t drink, but the music alone is enough to make him hazy. 

 

And then, for the first time since coming on stage, Dan speaks plainly into the microphone.

 

“Excuse me, everyone?”

 

Arin stares outright. From the moment Dan opens his mouth, any doubt Arin had that this was the same man that had walked with him what feels like years ago had vanished. Arin feels like he's seeing a ghost.

 

“This next song will be our last song of the night, and we just wanted to thank you all for heading out and sticking around, it really means a lot to us.” And there was that smile, bright and genuine like the one he'd seen as Dan waved goodbye for what he thought had been the last time. Arin is afraid if he blinks he'll disappear, and this bizarre dream would end much too soon.

 

Dan's voice is seemingly untouched by the many hours of usage, still smooth and rich and just as enthralling as the first song. Arin feels like he's in a bubble, and for just the short duration on the song, it's just him and Dan. Two souls closed off from the rain outside in their shelter of heat and music. It’s slow and heady, like the first song, but there’s a bittersweet edge in the tone that gives Arin a sense of finality he hasn’t heard before.

 

And then the song is over. Arin is aware he's clapping, along with the thirty or so people still left in the room, but it's an unconscious effort as Arin stares openly at the stage. And then he's standing, and he doesn't have a plan or any words he wants to say, but Dan finally sees him there, standing like a lost child in a sea of moving people. People are putting their coats on, taking out phones to call friends or taxis or both, and Arin is just standing there, a thousand silent words racing through a brief moment of eye contact. Slowly, like he's moving through water, Dan's long legs step down from the stage before making a beeline to where Arin still hasn't moved. 

 

“Hi,” Dan says, low and quiet. Arin watches as his fins flare in, and out, incredibly bizarre but somehow so natural and  _ alive _ . Arin forgets to respond, but Dan looks unbothered.

 

“Did you enjoy the show?”

 

Arin knows there’s a double meaning behind his words, but he isn’t exactly sure what. Regardless, Arin swallows thickly and nods. Dan nods back, a ghost of a smile twitching his lips before quickly disappearing.

 

Dan looks back at the musicians packing up their instruments, and then back to Arin. He seems to have decided something, and he puts a familiar hand on Arin’s shoulder.

 

“Can we talk outside?”

 

Arin nods again, more confident this time as he silently follows Dan into the night outside.

 

There’s a short canopy above the window that shields the two of them from the downpour, but the rain provides a loud static background as the two of them look each other over. 

 

“What’s going on, Dan?” Arin is the first to speak up, wrapping his arms around himself. Dan doesn’t look cold in the slightest.

 

“Look, I… I need you not to tell anybody about this.” 

 

Arin’s mouth presses into a straight line. “About what?” Arin asks, although he’s pretty sure he already knows the answer.

 

“I’m a halfling, Arin.”

 

Arin had suspected as such, but hearing the words from Dan’s mouth was still a shock he wasn’t ready for.

 

“I didn’t… I didn’t think those really existed.”

 

Dan huffs a laugh and shrugs. “Surprise.”

 

There’s a moment of silence where Arin absorbs this information, letting it sink in before nodding sharply.

 

“Okay,” He says. Arin isn't sure how to continue from here, so he looks to Dan, who in turn only looks apprehensive.

 

“You aren’t… nevermind,” Dan says, diverting his attention to the drips rolling off the canopy.

 

“I’m not what?”

 

“You don’t think I’m… I don’t know, freaky or anything?”

 

Arin wants to laugh, but he gets the feeling it might be inappropriate. “Why would I think that?”

 

“I don’t know, because it’s unnatural? I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t really exist.”

 

Arin gets the feeling these aren’t Dan’s words, and he’s unexpectedly angry at the years of accumulated grievances wearing Dan’s voice as sheep’s clothing.  _ Your kind shouldn’t be allowed to roam free _ , Arin recalls much too vividly, and suppresses a shudder.

 

It’s silent for a second while Arin decides what to do, before he takes a hesitant step forwards.

 

“Listen, I’m flexible okay? I mean, I grew up seeing things no one else could see, and had to pretty much figure it out by myself. This? It doesn’t really bother me. I’m just surprised is all.”

 

“Practice that one in the mirror, did you?” Dan jokes, but it's oddly soft and off-key. His attempt at a smile looks just a touch too much like a grimace.

 

Arin grins back. “I think I got it pretty much down, what did you think?”

 

Dan laughs, sniffling before moving to go back inside. “Listen, I gotta pack up for the night. But… thanks.”

 

Arin’s heart does a funny little stunt, and before he knows what he's doing his mouth is moving without his permission.

 

“Can I have your phone?” He blurts.

 

Dan stops, looking bemused. “Sure, I guess? What's wrong with yours?”

 

Arin mentally sucker punches himself. “No, fuck, your  _ number _ , can I have your phone number.”

 

“Oh,” Dan says, and makes an expression Arin hasn't seen on him before. It's somewhere between surprise and hesitance as he holds out a hand. “I can type it into your contacts if you want.”

 

As Arin places his ratty blackberry into Dan's outstretched palm, he smiles.

 

\-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

 

Arin remembers the summer of 2004, back when he still lived in Florida with his parents. Although it had been a relatively mild summer for Florida, Arin had spent the majority of it indoors; either holed up in his bedroom or behind the register at the record store he used to work at. It was the first Summer he'd ever felt truly lonely, his company mainly consisting of his parents and coworkers. 

 

One of the few people he called a friend- a young banshee boy named Travis that stocked the shelves- often preached to him about how he should really go out and mingle. “You'll never get over her unless you meet new people, man,” Travis would say. Arin wanted to argue that that wasn't really how it worked, but he appreciated Travis at least being concerned for him. 

 

He had a very brief fling with a girl named Andrea, after she giggled at his dumb jokes while buying the latest Pearl Jam CD. She was sweet, and warm, and she often smelled like the watermelon chewing gum she loved so much. But Arin never really liked her half as much as Suzy, and he couldn't help but feel foolish for ever thinking he would. He felt guilty for not feeling sad when he finally broke it off.

 

That had been nearly eight years ago. He still hasn't had a serious relationship since he was 16, not counting the occasional one-night-stands with a friend. He considers all of this as he lies awake in the dead of night, staring fixedly at the innocent string of numbers on his phone screen. New connections were always at least a little exciting for Arin, who still had so few friends of his own. Whether or not a romantic prospect was involved, Arin can appreciate the satisfaction of human contact.

 

Or halfling contact, in this scenario.

 

To be honest, Arin isn't sure if he's interested in Dan. Dan is interesting, that much goes without saying. But Arin has a hard time deciding if he wants to pursue something with him or if the man is just enthralling by nature. 

 

Either way, it's been a day since the concert, and Arin still hasn't called.

 

He doesn't know why he's putting it off, if he's trying to play coy like in a shitty chick-flick or if he's really that much of a coward. He's come close several times, pulling up the contacts page and hovering his thumb over the button for way too long, before quickly shutting off the screen and shoving it into a hoodie pocket. It's stupid, and Arin knows it, but he's only human.

 

He figures Dan probably isn't even awake at this hour, and he weighs the option of going the short route and just texting him. After many minutes of writing, deleting, and re-writing, Arin eventually settles with,

 

Hi Dan its Arin. Just texting so you have my number. Sorry its so late.

 

He doesn’t get a reply straightaway, so he finally tries to slow his racing thoughts enough to attempt sleep. When he finally drifts off, he dreams of sharp teeth beneath warm, caring smiles.

  
  


He’s awoken by the rumble of distant thunder, accompanied in chorus by the sounds of his distressed cats. Arin squints blearily until he can make out the glowing red “6:29” on his bedside alarm clock. Fumbling around blindly, Arin navigates his apartment until he finds Mimi scratching anxiously at the carpet in an isolated corner. He squats down and makes vague comforting sounds until she stops yelling. “‘S okay, ‘s jus’ thunder. We’re all good so just shut the fuck....”

 

Arin feels more asleep than awake, and it’s a miracle of god that he’s even able to stand back up once Mimi has been sufficiently silenced. Shuffling back to his bedroom, his bed is deliciously warm as he wraps himself in his soft polyester sheets. Lulled by the sound of the rain, Arin just barely notices the soft buzz of his text tone. 

 

No problem. Sorry its so early. Do you like sushi?

 

Arin rereads the text before raising an eyebrow. 

 

Is that a euphemism for something?

 

Yes.

But also I’m only in LA for another week. I’ve got a craving.

 

You ever been to Sugar Fish?

 

Nope. How does Monday at noon sound?

 

Is this a date?  Arin types, and then after a second, deletes it.

 

Fishy. I’ll see you there.

 

Feeling even more confused than when he went to bed last night, Arin rolls over, and promptly falls back asleep.


	4. Armistice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things aren't turning out so great for our boys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey listen for our intents and purposes were gonna assume the actual band Armistice doesn't actually exist because I didn't know that while I was writing this
> 
> Also does this chapter seem rushed its because it isssss

Ross is crying again.

 

He's been doing that a lot lately, Arin knows this better than anyone. Ross loves to hide everything behind his carefully constructed facade of sadism, but ever since Arin moved in and became one of Ross’ closest friends he became privy to the emotionally constipated kid under that stupid fucking smirk. Arin’s newfound proximity and listening skills made him a convenient shoulder for Ross to dump his incredibly pent-up emotions to. Not that Arin particularly minded, after all he was certainly not one to talk when it came to keeping everything bottled up, but lately it’s been worrying him just a little. 

 

Ross didn’t used to cry this much; back when they were two kids psyched just to be living somewhere that wasn’t their parents’ house. But Ross never really grew up past the age of 15, and thus is easily overwhelmed by adult concepts such as rent and taxes. Ever since the last semester of his bachelor’s degree started up he’s been strung tighter than a piano string, coming home exhausted and waking up with eyes barely open. Arin had hoped that maybe being with Holly might get him to open up more, but he figures it's too early to call.

 

Arin hears him before he sees him, his louder sobs managing to interrupt Arin's music through two layers of thin walls. It’s almost funny, considering he’s listening to an Eiffel 65 song, but he knows he has to at least try to be a decent friend. Sighing, Arin gets up and dutifully pads to his friend's door before carefully knocking.

 

“Do you want your Ben & Jerry's?” Arin asks, recalling the half-empty New York Super Fudge Chunk sitting in their freezer.

 

“I already brought it in here. I ate it.” Ross’ voice is choked and miserable, and Arin takes his willingness to talk as a sign to come in.

 

He's on his bed, hunched almost uncomfortably over his old MacBook that he doesn’t take his eyes off of. Neither of them ever bothered to buy tissues, so Ross’ hoodie sleeves are damp with snot and tears as he scratches agitatedly at his jeans. 

 

“You wanna talk about it?” Arin asks, used to the routine by now.

 

Ross only sniffs in response, wet and pathetic.

 

“Did Holly break up with you?”

 

Ross shakes his head.

 

“Did somebody die?”

 

Another shake.

 

“Anything I should be worried about?”

 

No.

 

Arin lowers his voice just a touch. “Are you gonna be okay?” 

 

Ross side-eyes him before nodding sharply, quickly wiping his face with a clean patch of sleeve fabric. “Sorry,” He rasps, before drawing in a deep, slow breath. “Sorry, sorry.”

 

Pressing his lips to a thin line, Arin takes a deep breath of his own before snatching a half-empty bag of chips off the floor and plopping down on the bed next to Ross. “What's so interesting there?” Arin asks, motioning to Ross’ laptop.

 

“It's just coursework,” Ross laughs humorlessly. “I can't even fucking read it, goddammit.”

 

Arin wishes he could tell Ross to stop, to take a break from his classes just so he can breathe for just a minute. But he knows that isn't how the world functions, and there's bitterness in the way he watches Ross’ laptop churn and whir from overheating.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me about your date with Dan?”

 

Arin’s eyes are wide as he looks up at Ross’ tear-streaked face, red eyes avoiding his own. “How did you…”

 

“Holly told me,” Ross sniffs. “I know it's none of my business and you can have secrets and stuff, but, like. Did you think I wouldn't be cool with it?”

 

“No, no, Ross, fuck, it has nothing to do with you. Is that why you're crying?”

 

“I'm not crying anymore,” Ross mumbles. 

 

There’s a long moment where Arin just stares, forming sentences in his head carefully until he can pick one that will make Ross stop staring at the floor like Arin personally murdered his brother. “Listen,” Arin starts, drawing in a deep breath. “I didn't tell you because I wasn't sure it meant something. We just had sushi. I don't think you're secretly homophobic, Ross.”

 

“Do you like him?” Ross finally meets Arin's gaze.

 

Arin bites a cheek. “Not sure yet.”

 

He nods, seemingly satisfied with this answer. “Holly says Dan said he had a good time, if that means anything.”

 

Arin smiles, laughing once through his nose. “Thanks.”

 

“Sorry about-” Ross makes a vague gesture to the space between them.

 

“Not a problem.” Arin tosses a chip in his mouth. 

 

The atmosphere that had clouded the room has almost dissipated, replaced with a feeling of uneasy contentment. Finally Ross closes his laptop and reaches for a chip of his own. “What did you guys talk about?”

 

“Just basic stuff,” Arin shrugs. “Where you grew up, what bands do you like, who's your favorite Power Ranger. That kinda stuff.”

 

“Did you have fun?”

 

Arin chews another chip and swallows. “Yeah. I really did. It was nice.”

 

“You planning on seeing him again?”

 

“He's going out of town in a few days, so I don't know if I'll have the chance. Says he's gotta meet with family in Jersey.”

 

“Maybe when he comes back?”

 

“ _ If  _ he comes back. From what I understand I don't think he lives in California.”

 

“Man. That blows.”

 

In the lulls in the conversation Arin realizes just how long it's been since he really sat down and talked with his friend. Of all the friends he still keeps in touch with, he's known Ross the longest. And although they've changed so much since they were scared thirteen-year-olds on an online forum, Ross is still Arin’s best friend. He tries not to feel to guilty for neglecting his relationships, especially when they're both very busy people. He just wishes it didn't have to take a meltdown for them to actually talk to each other.

 

They keep talking, long after Ross’ face dries and the two of them finish off the rest of the chips. But Arin knows how much crying wears people out, so when Ross starts yawning he's quick to wrap up their musings about the latest Zelda game.

 

“Here, I gotta go.” Pushing of the bed, Arin grabs the empty bag and tosses it in Ross’ pedal trash can before heading for the door. “I got some frames I still need to finish.”

 

Ross lifts a hand in a half-hearted wave. “See you.”

 

Mimi skirts around Arin's strides as he walks back to his own bedroom, her tail brushing up against his bare ankles. It's nearing 10pm, but Arin knows he probably won't be tired for another hour or so. He's just sitting down to work on another frame when he hears his phone chime from his jacket pocket. When he fishes it out, he's surprised to see Dan's name flashing up at him from the screen.

 

“Hello?”

 

_ “Hi Arin, is this a bad time?” _

 

“No, not at all, what's up?”

 

_ “Listen, I know we just went out, but I'm performing tomorrow night at an actual venue, and I was wondering if I should save a ticket for you?” _

 

Arin catches himself grinning before he schools his expression to more of a fond smirk. “Yeah, uh, yeah that's fine. That's really cool of you.”

 

_ “No problem, I want you to be there.” _

 

“What time what place?”

 

_ “The Prospitan an 7:30.” _

 

“I'll be there.”

 

_ “See you then.” _

 

“Bye.”

 

Eventually Arin will stop smiling like a teenager on E. But for now he’s content to stare at his computer screen and wonder why he ever tries to keep this feeling at bay.

  
  
  


The theatre is not a particularly enormous, having capacity for only about 200 people or so. On stage is a band by the name of “Armistice”, a local techno band Arin has predictably never heard of. The song is a high-energy one, with lots of yelling and pounding baseline. There’s no chairs, and towards the front of the stage patrons are squished together with their hands in the air, singing and pumping their fists along with the beat. Dan is only one of five bands performing tonight, and he isn't scheduled to come on stage for another few minutes or so. Arin is well aware he came much earlier than strictly necessary, but he didn't want to risk accidentally missing some of Dan's performance, as unlikely as it may be. Although it has resulted in him bumping shoulders with strangers for much longer than he might have preferred. 

 

The song wraps up, and soon enough the band on stage thanks the crowd, met by enthusiastic cheers and hollers. The members step backstage, and the room is only empty for a few minutes before those familiar long legs and easy grin make their way on stage, accompanied by two of Dan’s bandmates. Arin cheers along with the crowd, but somehow Dan picks him out almost instantly and shoots him a glance and a little wave. If he’s nervous, Arin wouldn’t know it by his carefree stroll to the mic and the charming way he greets his audience. 

 

“How’s everyone doing tonight?”

 

Arin smiles, making a thumbs-up out of habit as the crowd chimes their response.

 

“Good? You all having a good time?”

 

The cheer is more enthusiastic this time, as if a loud, vaguely positive noise would communicate their all-around appreciation for booze and music. 

 

“Good to hear! Thank you all for coming, my name is Danny, and we are Skyhill!” 

 

The first few drum beats are drowned out by the roar of the crowd, but it settles down soon after the bassist begins to strum the same four chords. 

 

Arin happily sways to the music, only enough room to move a couple of inches. It’s approximately 300 degrees in the thick of a moving crowd, and he can already feel himself sweating through his Megaman t-shirt. But it doesn’t stop him from enjoying Dan’s song. He didn’t think he’d get the chance to listen to it again, so he tries his best to soak in the moment. The soreness of his feet, the neon lights dancing in Dan’s halo of curls, the way seeing Dan’s exposed fins feels like a shared secret. He commits it all to memory, hoping to savor it once Dan is gone once again. 

 

Their eyes meet several times during the show, little knowing smirks and secret glances going unnoticed by the others. It makes Arin feel special, and stupidly giddy, and he finds himself laughing at the way Dan shimmies his hips with a well-timed lyric. 

And then, Arin happens to look to his right.

 

He first sees it in his peripheral, moving among the mass of bodies like a predator trying to blend in. He cranes his neck to get a better look, and what he sees makes his stomach drop to his knees.

 

Because it is not one something, but two someones. One with thick, sharp talons; and one in a thick, black parka.

 

And they’re staring at Dan like he’s a dead man walking.

  
  
  


“I'm sorry sir, I can't let you in.”

 

Arin feels himself choking on his mounting panic, desperately glancing between the bouncer and what little he can glimpse of the stage from his vantage point. It's an instrumental break, and Arin thinks Dan might actually be looking for him, judging by the way his head tilts like he's scanning the crowd for a familiar face. The woman in black before him is tall and muscular, her arms crossed authoritatively in front of her chest. But she looks more bored than angry, and Arin is not above pleading.

 

“You don't understand,” he gasps. “Dan's in danger, he's not safe here!”

 

“Does someone here have a weapon?” she is immediately on alert, hand hovering by the radio at her side. 

 

On stage, a song tapers off to loud applause as Dan raises a hand. “That's it for us tonight folks!” Dan salutes. 

 

“No, no, no, no,” Arin mutters, turning back to the bouncer. “You have to warn him, he needs to get out of here now! 

 

“Sir, is someone in the audience armed?”

 

“No, it's-”

 

“I will see to it no one gets backstage,” she assures, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I'll make sure no one gets to him.” 

 

Arin groans, tugging desperately at his hair. “Please just let me talk to him,” Arin begs, searching her eyes intently for some sign of compliance. To his relief, she eventually steps aside with a sigh.

 

“Thank you,” Arin barely has time to breathe the words before he's racing down the hallway in the direction she points him in. 

 

His sneakers screech against linoleum as he grinds to a stop in the entrance to the green room. Strewn about the room are several musicians that pause their conversations as soon as Arin bursts in. Arin recognizes many of them from their performances, including two of Dan's bandmates. “Where's Dan?” Arin gasps.

 

“He went to grab a lozenge,” says the bassist, looking intrigued. “He went that way.” He points a long finger to a side exit, presumably leading down another hallway.

 

“Shit!” Arin wastes no time sprinting towards the door and out of the room, not even caring about the bewildered performers he leaves in his wake. 

 

“Dan?” Arin cries, flying past several doors on his way down. All of them remain closed, and Arin hears nothing in lieu of a reply. Coming to a dead end, Arin yanks out his phone and dials Dan as fast as he can. 

 

“Fuck, pick up, pick up,” Arin mutters, biting a fingernail agitatedly. It rings once, twice, and Arin doesn't get to the third ring before he hears something barely audible, a sort of cut-off  _ thump _ . It's so quiet it'd be easy to convince himself he imagined it, but he has no choice but to run down the adjacent hallway in the direction he heard it from. 

 

At the end of the hallway is a heavy metal door beneath a glowing red “EXIT”, slightly ajar like a tableau of a cliche indie thriller film. Bursting into the cool night air is a shock to the senses as Arin looks up and down the alley he finds himself in. He jumps at the sound of Dan's voice.

 

_ “You've reached the voicemail of Danny Avidan, leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I'm done having sex.” _

 

Arin stares blankly at his phone as the silence is broken by the tone. “...Dan?” he brings the receiver up to his face. “Dan, I'm hoping what I think just happened didn't happen.” He's aware his voice is trembling, and he swallows hard before continuing. “Please call me if you get this… please be okay.”

 

He hits “end call”, and then hands are around his neck, and he's unconscious before his phone even clatters to the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw beans


	5. Mixed Berry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations, you've reached level 5! You've unlocked Dan's tragic backstory!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so exposition-heavy I really wanted to get this out asap and I can't really fix it any further

There's a clock ticking somewhere, getting louder and quieter as Arin focuses on and ignores it. It might be going slower than real time, or maybe Arin’s mind is just racing. 

 

He's back in that ratty wooden room, lit only with a naked lightbulb dangling from a chord. Suzy stands just out of direct light, arms crossed and face apprehensive. “Back so soon?” she says, and Arin can only just shrug.

 

The atmosphere is very different than the last time he was in this purgatory, now far less rushed and more akin to a TV interrogation room. Although, despite her posture, Arin gets the feeling Suzy wouldn't be the one asking questions here. Now that Arin has more time to take in his surroundings, he notices a few things, mainly about Suzy.

 

Dressed in jeans and a too-small jacket, Suzy kind of looks like a computer in a crime drama had been shown a picture of Suzy in high school and calculated what she would look like at 25. 

 

“Who are you?” Arin asks.

 

Suzy smiles, tilting her head to the right. “I'm Suzy, dummy. Don't you recognize me?” 

 

“I'm… I'm dreaming though. Are you really Suzy or dream Suzy?”

 

“Well, I'm not dead, you know that,” Suzy chuckles. “So I'm not an apparition. Do you think I could be using voodoo faerie magic?” she waggles her fingers, the edges of her eyes turning up.

 

“I dunno. Are you?”

 

“You tell me champ. Would you prefer I was a dream?”

 

“I dunno,” Arin repeats. “Maybe.”

 

“Why's that?”

 

It's quiet for a while, and Arin wishes he had something to sit on, as his legs were getting a little tired. 

 

“I don't think I'm ready to see you again. The real you.”

 

Suzy looks away, as if she sees something in the inky blackness encasing their bubble of light. “That's fair, I guess.”

 

“Sorry.”

 

“No, it's,” Suzy shakes her head. “It's whatever. I'm not mad or anything.”

 

“No, I mean. Sorry I wasn't… wasn't good to you I guess.” 

 

“Oh, that's a dream for another time.” her smile is sad now, taking a small step towards Arin. “I wanted to tell you something.”

 

“Is it a dream prophecy? I could go for a nice dream prophecy.”

 

“Shut up for a second, smartass.”

 

Arin laughs for the first time since coming into this place, and it feels awkwardly unreal. The sound comes from his mouth, but his chest remains still.

 

“A lot has happened,” Suzy says. “And you have a lot of stuff ahead of you. I just… I just wanted you to be resilient, okay?”

 

Arin makes a face. “I mean. Okay. Am I gonna almost die again?”

 

“Man, I don't know, maybe? It's gonna get kind of crazy is what I'm saying. I just want you to prepare yourself I guess.”

 

Arin captain salutes. “Yes mam.”

 

“Good.” she nods. “Now get out of here, you might be in danger.”

 

“Wh-” Arin doesn't get to finish his sentence before Suzy is shoving him backwards, and suddenly his eyes fly open as he jolts awake.

 

Arin sits up, the tail end of his dream seeping from his memory as his hands clench bedsheets. Bedsheets… on his own bed. Why was that significant?

 

The events of last night come back to him in a heavy rush, and Arin can only blink and look around in confusion. Eventually he leans over, and reads his clock. It’s almost eleven in the morning. Slowly, like he’s still dreaming, Arin methodically pulls back his covers and steps onto the carpet. His door is open; and he never sleeps with his door open.

 

His feet don’t make much sound as he pads into the living room, bracing himself for whatever he might see past the wall dividing the hallway from the rest of the apartment. He almost half expects his place to be ransacked, or maybe his dead cats strung from the ceiling. What he doesn’t expect is Dan, sitting on his couch with Mimi and a juice box he recognizes as Ross’. 

 

Arin stops, holding his own in the staring contest he finds himself suddenly locked in. Dan looks...  _ wrecked _ , for lack of a better word. The left side of his face is mottled with a decent shiner, and his upper lip is crusted over with dried blood from his nose. 

 

“Good morning.” Dan is the first to speak, voice hoarse as he gives Arin a small smile.

 

“...Hey,” Arin replies, glancing around his otherwise untouched apartment. “Where’s Ross?”

 

“He went to Rite-Aid. And I think he also said he was gonna go see Holly.”

 

Arin nods, moving to sit in the shitty wicker loveseat Ross had inherited from his grandma. “...What the hell, man,” Arin sighs, leaning back and pulling his feet up. Across from him, Dan takes a long sip of… Arin squints to read the label. Mixed berry.

 

“I am so sorry.” Dan’s voice is impossibly small, and Arin only now notices just how exhausted he looks. Arin says nothing, instead only raises his eyebrows in a prompt to continue.

 

Dan takes a deep breath, rubbing distractedly at one of his many bruises. “I wasn’t… I hadn’t… I’m so, so sorry Arin.”

 

“What  _ happened _ , Dan.”

 

“They weren’t supposed to find you!’ Dan blurts, burying his head in his hands. “I was supposed to leave earlier, but I was told I’d be safe for a few more days, and the concert was such a good venue and-”

 

“ _ Stop it. _ ” Arin's tone isn't angry, just a gentle verbal shake for Dan to pull himself together. “Drink your juice. Recuperate.” 

 

Dan obeys. There's the telltale sound of suction on an almost-empty cardboard box, and Dan places it carefully on a side table. “Um. Maybe I should start at the beginning I guess.”

 

“Maybe you should.”

 

He takes a deep breath, tugging stray curls out of his eyes. “Um. Okay. When I was… 15 or so- whatever age you are in 9th grade. I still didn't know I was a halfling, I didn't learn how to switch until junior year. I just figured I was a seer like my dad, and that was just like a normal… thing that I never really thought about. Some other fey kids at school found out somehow I was a seer- or thought I was anyway- and I guess a lot of them had the same mentality as… well I guess I don't need to tell you.” 

 

Arin's heart hurts, and he nods silently as Dan busies himself with stroking Mimi’s fur. 

 

“Eventually it got so bad I had to transfer high schools just ‘coz like, it became a threat to my safety, y’know?” 

 

Arin wants to make a sarcastic comment, but bites his tongue and only nods again. 

 

“My dad was a seer- well he's not dead, he still  _ is _ a seer- so he had no problem changing schools. But it was really rough on the both of us. So at my next school I was more careful keeping shit on lock-down. I was really outgoing in highschool, but I was on edge all the time right?

 

Really shortly after I switched schools I found out I was a very special edition of  _ Animorphs _ , which was pretty fucking rad but it also gave me one more thing to worry about. I couldn't really explore that part of myself without risking outing myself to school kids, so what I eventually did is went a ways out of town and every week or so I'd go to fey clubs and made a lot of friends that way.

 

I still keep in touch with a lot of those people. It was a good community to be in in my situation. I even told most of them my secret after I had been friends with them long enough and deemed it safe. But there was… one kid.”

 

As Dan looks pensively out the window, he runs a thin finger over his bottom lip and sighs. Arin tracks the motion with his eyes.

 

“For a long time I considered him my best friend. He was there every Friday night, and we’d spend the whole time playing on the old arcade machines they had in the back. He was wicked smart, always kickass at puzzle games. But... he had a bad home life. His dad was a violent orc that loathed humans and his mom was never around. Then one day he, uh. His dad gathered a whole bunch of fey and wouldn’t let him stay behind. They found out someone in town was a seer and they were gonna…  _ fuck _ , I can’t even…”

 

Dan puts a hand over his mouth, and for a second Arin thinks he’s going to vomit on his carpet.

 

“It was somebody my dad was friends with, they worked at the same clinic. I just happened to be visiting them that day when they all started storming the hallways, I was in human form and I had to pretend I couldn't see the them as they combed the place. The guy they were after managed to escape and skip town, but if it had been my dad they were after, or even  _ me _ -”

 

“Dan.” Arin says. He doesn't say anything else.

 

“And he was there.” Dan's hand shakes as he pets Mimi. “And he saw me standing in the hallway and he just looked so  _ scared _ .”

 

“What was his name?” Arin doesn't know why he asks, it just feels important.

 

“Brian,” Dan answers. “His name was Brian. And I never saw him again after that night. I stopped going out of town until I went to college, and then my life went in a whole other direction I won’t get into right now. But that’s not the point.”

 

Dan sits up, looking more focused than Arin has ever seen him. 

 

“The gang he was a part of is far bigger than I thought it was when I was 18. They were just one of hundreds of smaller branches of an organization that calls itself the Unseen Puritans. Their only goal is to eliminate seers and have unsupervised control over the human race. Not to seem narcissistic or anything, but I’m actually pretty high up there on their Blacklist. Pretty much ever since I was 25.”

 

“Dan, what the  _ fuck _ .”

 

“It’s a lot to dump on somebody, I know.”

 

“Just a little bit, yeah.”

 

“I can’t imagine all of this is news to you.”

 

“Well, I mean I’ve hear of the UP. I just had no idea they were so… expansive.”

 

“It only takes a little bit.”

 

“This still doesn’t explain why we’re here right now. How come we aren’t… y’know. Fucked six ways to Sunday.”

 

“I was stupid,” Dan sighs. “I knew they were after me but the fucking gig was too good to pass up. And I definitely shouldnt’ve invited you, what the fuck was I thinking?”

 

“I had a nice time, for what it’s worth.”

 

“Right. Up until the whole kidnapping thing.”

 

“So then what happened?”

 

“Brian happened.” Dan’s voice is deadpan, but his eyes betray his bewilderment. “We were dead Arin, I’m not gonna lie to you. We were two freaks on death row just waiting to whatever sick thing they were gonna do. And then, fucking, the absolute last person I expected to see just showed up and put us in his car. He seemed like.... He seemed like he had authority over our kidnappers, like he was ranked above them or something. And he just fucking  _ asked me where to drop us off _ . Like he was a fucking  _ Uber driver _ . I told him to drop us off at the park and I carried you home. I’m pretty sure you can fill in the rest.”

 

“So he just let us go?!”

 

“Seems that way.”

 

There’s a moment of silence as the two of them digest this. Somewhere there sounds a faint whir as the air conditioning lurches on. Mimi hops off the couch and heads to the kitchen.

 

“I’m leaving later today,” Dan says. “Just wanted to make sure you were okay before I left.”

 

“Where are you going?”

 

To Arin’s horror, Dan just shrugs. “I’ve been thinking about Idaho lately. Heard they got a pretty okay music scene. And a river, which is a bonus.”

 

“Wait, so, you don’t have anyone you’re gonna be staying with?”

 

Dan shakes his head. “I’m living on borrowed time, Arin. I can only stay in one place for so long.”

 

“So you’re saying I might not see you again?” Arin’s fingers dig into his palms where his fists are clenched in his lap.

 

“Ideally. I mean- don’t get me wrong. You’re so… fucking amazing, but I can’t risk putting you in danger any more than I already have.”

 

Arin bites a cheek. 

 

“I got a plane to catch.” Dan stands up, quietly brushing cat hair from his jeans. “Listen, I-”

 

“I can’t accept it.”

 

Dan stares at Arin. “What?”

 

“I can’t, I can’t let you go out there when you have this fucking…  _ thing _ after you when you have virtually no protection, I-I-I.” Arin stutters, standing from his seat as well. “I don’t think I could handle knowing you’re out there and you’re in danger, I couldn’t-”

 

“You barely even know me, Arin.” He doesn’t sound irritated, just tired.

 

“I know you enough!” Arin pulls a shaky hand through his hair. “A-a-and I know you can’t run away from this forever, they’re going to find you someday.”

 

“Don’t you think I know that? Arin, you have to believe me, I accepted it a long time ago!”

 

“Obviously not, or else you wouldn’t be running!”

 

“Arin, please don't.”

 

“Just let me help you, Dan. Please.”

 

“Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to be a seer hanging around me? It's suicide.”

 

“Not if we work together, not if we can fucking do something about this.”

 

“Stop it. Stop making me want to stay. I can't do that to you.”

 

“You got yourself into this mess when you fished me out of that goddamn river.”

 

Dan moans and covers his face with his hands, and Arin knows he's won the argument. For now. 

 

It’s quiet for a long time, and then Dan sighs. “The  _ second _ I think something could go wrong, I am leaving, do you hear me?”

 

Arin lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and nods eagerly. “Thank you.”

 

“Right. Like you have anything to thank  _ me  _ for.” Dan mumbles sarcastically.

 

Whatever Arin is about to say is cut off by the door flinging open to reveal Ross, and Holly standing behind him looking extremely apologetic. Ross is wide eyed, and borderline yells,

 

“DAN IS A FUCKING  _ HALFLING _ ?!”


	6. Sonic Heroes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's better than this, just two guys being bros

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really sorry this chapter is so short, but I'll think you'll find it in your hearts to forgive me ;^)

“What’s a five letter word for ‘a drug company that manufactures Valium’? It starts with ‘R’.”

 

“Oh, shit, wait I actually know this. Um. Try Roche. R-o-c-h-e.”

 

“Alright cool.” Arin’s pen is kind of shitty, and he has to go over the letters once or twice to make them legible.

 

“Do you know any stores around here that sell guitar stuff? I think one of my strings needs replacing.” Dan’s long fingers cradle his bass with more care than a newborn child as he slowly plucks a note and adjusts the tabs accordingly.

 

“Yeah, out by the H&M I think. Um. I think it’s just called the Guitar Shop.”

 

“And am I allowed to go or am I still grounded?”

 

Arin sighs, leveling him a  _ look  _ over his puzzle. “I didn’t say you couldn’t go  _ out _ , I’m just saying you shouldn’t go  _ alone _ .”

 

“I know, I know, just fucking with you.” Dan kind of goes quiet for a while as he absently plucks his guitar. Eventually he finds a chord progression and sticks with it, bobbing his head along as he goes. It’s nice, something bouncy and intricate, and Arin finds his foot tapping along as he fills in a five letter word for “meal, as for a king”.

 

“What’s your favorite thing to play on bass?” Arin asks, drawing Dan from his trance.

 

“Mmm. Probably Rush songs. Then again, Rush songs are pretty much the only songs I know how to play. That and maybe some of my own stuff. Gimme a sec.”

 

Dan messes up many times, but it never keeps Arin from appreciating the songs. Arin can’t play an instrument himself, and if he’s being honest, is easily impressed.

 

“Hey Dan?”

 

“Mmm?”

 

“Do you like Thai food? Ross is away for the weekend and I thought we could play some video games. Have an ol’ fashioned hang-sesh.”

 

Dan’s grin is broad as he looks up at Arin from his position on the floor. “I’d like that a lot. What kind of stuff do you have?”

 

“Ross shelled out for an Xbox last year. We got like. Borderlands and Resident Evil. Also some Sonic games.”

 

“One of these things is not like the others.”

 

“We got ‘em as a Christmas gift forever ago. They have seen very little action.”

 

“That seems facetious. I think we’re gonna have to play some Sonic games, Arin.”

 

Arin groans. “Do we have to?”

 

“I think we very much absolutely have to, yes.” Dan’s giggle is infectious, and soon Arin is picking up the phone to dial the thai place.

 

_ _ _ _ _ _

 

It’s 3pm on a Saturday, the world is ending and security has become a happy pipe dream, and Arin’s fingers are sticky from orange sauce where he holds his Xbox controller.

 

“God, could they have chosen a quieter voice actress? I’m missing out on some fucking  _ crucial _ plot-building if Rogue is standing eight feet from the microphone.”

 

“ _ The world is in danger Shadow, I need you to stand behind me and look brooding while I make empowering poses. _ ” Arin has learned Dan really only has one default “girl voice”, but it still makes him chuckle like a moron.

 

On the coffee table lies several half-empty take-out boxes and several grains of spilled rice, which Arin makes a mental note to clean up before Ross gets back. Between the table and the TV is Dan’s air mattress they had borrowed from Holly, as Arin wouldn’t let Dan live in a motel anymore and Dan was far too tall to fit on the couch. 

 

It’s been three days since Dan unofficially moved in. It isn’t as cramped as Arin had first feared, mostly because Ross is often either at work, school, or Holly’s apartment. Dan loves Arin’s cats, and Arin loves Dan’s music, and the two of them get along easily enough that home life isn’t a hassle. Dan gets restless however, not used to being caged up for so long but understanding why he needs to be. It leaves for an uneasy balance maintained by long nights and frequent trips to the grocery store.

 

“Wow, you are. Really not great at this,” Arin comments, watching as Dan’s character dies for the fifth time.

 

“I haven’t played a video game since 1995,” Dan jokes, setting his controller down and nabbing a quick spoonful of rice.

 

“I’m really glad you’re getting back into it with  _ Sonic Heroes _ . Personally I can’t think of a better game.”

 

“So good. Best game. I love it.”

 

They play in silence for a little while, save for many sarcastic jabs and quips at the game’s expense. But Arin’s chest is too heavy to keep quiet any longer. He pauses the game, and Dan looks at him quizzically.

 

“Hey, do you think we could like. Have a serious talk for a sec?”

 

“You wanna have a serious talk over Sonic Heroes?” His tone is incredulous, but he dutifully sets his controller down and turns to face Arin. “What’s up?”

 

Arin bites his lip and mulls over what to say for a few moments. “Well, you know exactly what’s up. I know we haven’t really talked about the whole ‘UP’ thing, but I think we should really have a discussion about it.”

 

Dan sighs, pushing hair out of his eyes. “Yeah. You’re right about that.”

 

“I know we don’t have a lot of options, but I think the obvious place to start is to see if you can get into contact with Brian.”

 

Dan bites a lip. “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. I had a half-formed plan involving getting kidnapped in the off-chance Brian might intervene again.”

 

“I’m not in love with that plan, I gotta say.”

 

“If you have a better idea, I would  _ love _ to hear it.”

 

“We could kidnap one of  _ them _ and see if we can’t get information out of them?”

 

“ _ Wow _ , no, I don’t like that plan either.”

 

“Yeah, we don’t really have a basement and a whole lot of rope. What if one of us pretends to join the gang, and get information that way?”

 

“Are all of your plans out of heist dramas from the 90s? I don’t know if you know this, but you’re exactly what they’re trying to kill, and they know who the fuck I am.”

 

“...We could get Holly to do it.”

 

Dan groans, rubbing his forehead. “Man, I don’t want Holly getting involved in this, she has enough shit to deal with as it is.”

 

“I don’t want to either, but objectively it’s the safest plan so far.”

 

Dan stares at the coffee table for a long time, micro-expressions flashing across his face every once in awhile as he slowly strokes his chin.

 

“Hey Arin?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“This sucks. This sucks a whole fucking lot.”

 

“Woah, dude, are you okay?” Arin’s eyes are wide as he watches Dan sniffle and cover his face with a shaky breath.

 

“No. But I’ll live.” Dan’s voice is strained as he tries fruitlessly to control his breathing.

 

“...Here, C’mere.” Cautiously, Arin places his arm around Dan’s shoulders and gently tugs until Dan is curled against his chest. Dan is stiff at first, but eventually he relaxes and continues to softly sob into Arin’s cotton t-shirt.

 

“Sorry,” Dan rasps. “It gets a little much sometimes, y’know?”

 

“I know,” Arin says into Dan’s hair. “Trust me, I know.” Arin strokes tiny shapes into Dan’s shoulder with his thumb.

 

Arin feels rather than hears Dan laugh, a breathless chuckle broken up by sniffles. “God, how are you real?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

Dan lifts his head, just enough to make eye contact, and glances between Arin’s eyes for a long second. He opens his mouth to say something, and then shuts it. He glances at the door, and then back at Arin.

 

“Would it be okay if I kissed you?”

 

Arin blinks, and then nods, and suddenly he’s on his couch at four in the afternoon and he’s kissing Dan Avidan and he doesn’t ever want to be doing anything else but kiss Dan Avidan.

 

His lips are a soft, stark contrast to the scratchiness of his 5-o'clock shadow, and Arin can feel the wetness on his cheeks from Dan’s undried tear streaks. There’s a hand on the side of his face, right where his jaw meets his neck, and for just a second he can forget that there are people outside the walls of their two-bedroom apartment that want them dead because he’s never felt more alive than he does right now. 

 

Dan is the first to break, pulling back with a gasp, and then a shudder, and then he’s curling even further into Arin’s chest. His sobs are louder this time, his shudders shaking his whole body as he wraps an arm around Arin’s torso. Arin holds him more confidently this time, his grip firm as he strokes Dan’s hair with a free hand and murmurs assurances. 

 

They stay like that for a long time, propped up against the arm of the couch even after Dan’s cries subside, and the Xbox shifts to sleep mode. “I’ll call Holly tomorrow,” Dan says. “If we’re doing this, I want to have a fully-formed plan.”

 

Arin says nothing, just nods in recognition. 

 

“You’re really warm,” Dan laughs, pushing himself up into a sitting position. He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. “Thank you. I’d say that was a pretty good hang sesh.”

 

“Happy to please.” Arin smiles wide. “Are you gonna be okay?”

 

“Yeah. I mean...yeah.”

 

“I’m really sorry you’re in this position. God, it’s not fucking fair.”

 

“Don’t be sorry for me, you’re in it with me now.”

 

“You’re right. I’m sorry for both of us.”

 

“I’m gonna re-heat some of this chicken. Do you know if anything’s on TV right now?”

 

“We don’t have cable so… probably Wheel of Fortune.”

 

“Perfect.”

 

They don’t talk about the kiss, but Dan watches Vanna White walk across a sunny beach leaned against Arin’s side, so Arin chalks it up to a pretty okay night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> smorch


	7. Wildlife Preservation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang is given a proposition they can't refuse. How fast can you pack a suitcase?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sucky thing about publishing this as I write it is I can't go back and fix previous chapters. I'm only realizing this far into the game that I've done very little world-building and I'm way overcompensating for it in this chapter. I hope you understand, and enjoy this longer chapter to make up for how short the last one was :^]

Today’s NPR special is on wildlife preservation in places like South America and Asia. From where Arin’s portable radio lies of the kitchen counter, a soft spoken woman recounts her experiences with the upbringing of an abandoned mountain lion kitten. As she speaks, quiet recordings of frightened mewling and reassuring whispers play in the background. It’s excellent white noise for Arin to work on dinner, stirring together beans and rice and simmering over a low flame. Chili is one of the only things Arin knows how to make, although not particularly well. Regardless, it smells delicious and Arin hasn’t eaten all day, so his stomach growls as he takes a experimental taste.

 

“Is that shit done yet? Daddy wants dinner.” It’s Ross, eloquent as always. 

 

It’s a rare occurrence when all four of them are in the same place, Holly giggling on the couch while Dan and Ross face off in Mario Kart. Ross and Holly had a close encounter at the coffee shop the previous day, almost outing Ross as a seer in front of an iffy kelpie. So the four of them decided it’d be best to stick together for now, at least until they can get in contact with Brian. Context aside, it’s a nice sense of familiarity Arin didn’t realize he was missing, and he make sure to savor it as he ladles out a few bowls, careful not to spill any.

 

“Here you go, Holly.” Holly smiles and mutters a thanks as she accepts the bowl from Arin’s hands.

 

“What about us?!” Ross cries, eyes darting from Arin to the screen and back.

 

“I only have two hands. There’s some on the counter for you guys.”

 

Ross leans his head back and groans, making Dan chuckle.

 

“Thanks for cooking, Arin. I’ll get some once I’m finished absolutely annihilating Ross’ asshole.” Dan’s tone is light, and Arin grins and he joins Holly on the couch.

 

“No problem. I call facing winner.”

 

“You know this thing has a three-player option?” Ross raises an eyebrow.

 

“I like this way better. It’s more violent.” Arin’s voice falls on deaf ears as Ross leans forward and grits his teeth.

 

“Are. You. Shitting. Me-  _ NO _ !” Ross yelps as his kart is shoved into yet another sandpit, and actually  _ growls _ . “How are you winning. How the fuck are you winning.”

 

Dan laughs, bewilderment evident on his face. “Dude. I am just as surprised as you are. I'm kind of running on fumes at this point.”

 

“Go Dan!” Holly cheers from the couch, laughing when Ross shoots her a glare.

 

“Hey do you think-” Arin says. 

 

And then abruptly stops speaking, because there's a knock at the door.

 

Ross pauses the game, unwilling to face defeat even in the face of potential danger. Arin looks wide-eyed around the room. 

 

“Should I. Should I answer it?” His voice is low, as to not be heard beyond their walls.

 

“No, dummy. If they have something for you they'll just leave it by your door. What if it's a Jehovah's Witness?” Ross hisses.

 

“ _ Jehovah’s _ \- you know there are actual people trying to kill us right?”

 

“They know we're home, you can probably hear Ross from down the hall,” Dan pipes up, objectively looking the most terrified out of the group.

 

“Would a gang member knock so politely, though?” Arin says, looking to the door. “I'll just check the peephole, okay? Make sure it's not the landlord or anything.”

 

“I'll come with you.” Dan rises shakily from the carpet and walks quietly behind Arin.

 

Leaning carefully towards the door, Arin peers through the small hole. It's a man in his late thirties, dressed in jeans and a black button-up, and his blue aura is the thickest he's ever seen. Arin can tell he's using glamour, but with his truesight he can clearly see his elongated ears and two long, blunt teeth jutting up from his lower lip.

 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Arin whispers, backing away from the door and reaching blindly for Dan's arm. “Holly. Do you know any protection spells.”

 

“I got us covered.” Holly’s hands are already splayed, her orange aura glowing and shifting. Almost as an afterthought, Ross hands Arin a kitchen knife. 

 

“Cool. Ok. Guess we're just gonna…”

 

The chain lock is still in place as Arin cracks the door open, meeting the man’s gaze. “Can I help you?”

 

The man isn’t exactly glaring, but he certainly doesn’t look happy. “Arin Hanson,” the man says, for no reason other than to assert dominance. “May I come in?”

 

“Umm…” Arin glances behind him. “N-no? No.”

 

“Ask him his name,” Dan whispers.

 

“Who are you?” Arin asks, a little less confident than he was hoping for.

 

“My name is Brian. Brian Wecht.”

 

“Ah.” Arin opens the door just a smidge more. “You wouldn’t happen to be-”

 

“Whatever the rest of that sentence is, the answer is probably yes.”

 

“Ah,” Arin says again. He looks back at Dan, who looks expectedly both confused and scared shitless. He turns back to the door. “Why should we let you in?”

 

“Because without my help you’ll be dead by Friday,” Brian deadpans, looking almost bored as he stares into Arin’s apartment.

 

“That’s a good reason,” Ross pipes up from behind Dan.

 

Arin shoots him a glare, then sighs before hesitantly unlatching the door. He clutches his knife tightly and holds it in plain view as Brian slowly steps into the room.

 

“Hello, Danny.”

 

Dan’s neck shifts as he swallows, hard. “Hi.”

 

“Start talking,” Holly demands, glaring daggers at the newcomer and holding her defensive stance.

 

“I didn’t come here to kill you… I’m sorry, I don’t know your name,”

 

“Strix,” Holly says.

 

“Is that your real name?”

 

“No.”

 

“...Okay then, Strix. I am going to see to it none of you are harmed, and in return I only ask for your cooperation. Is that alright?”

 

“The barrier stays up,” Holly says authoritatively.

 

“I wouldn’t ask you to take it down. In fact, it’s better if you keep it up. Never know how much time we have left.”

 

“Tell us the scene, old man!” Ross demands, not-so-subtly hiding behind Dan.

 

Brian looks unimpressed. “Ross O’Donovan. You’re even more charming in person.”

 

“We get it, you know our names,” Arin says. “Just tell us what you want.”

 

“I’m not the only one who knows your names, Mr. Hanson.” His tone is impossibly grave, demanding the attention of the room. “I’m afraid the Unseen Puritans have finally doxed you of all your information, and it's only a matter of time before it's time before they show up. Should they find you, Ross and Arin are to be killed on sight and Danny is to be taken to Baltimore. What they will do to him there, even I don’t know. And I don’t particularly want to.” There’s a sickly, uneasy moment where the four of them digest this. Arin and Dan share a look, and almost subconsciously move a bit closer together.

 

“However,” Brian continues. “I believe I have thought of a solution that will keep the four of you safe and perhaps even stop the organization altogether. Following me so far?”

 

“How did you get here, Brian.” Dan is putting on a brave face and Arin knows it, and he resists the urge to grab his hand.

 

“I walked here,” Brian says coolly. “I was in the neighborhood.”

 

“You know what I mean,” Dan replies.

 

Brian sighs, looking tired and probably older than he is. “I had to make some decisions, Danny. Decisions I regret. I'll leave it at that for now.”

 

Dan is quiet, and Brian takes it as a queue to continue. “How familiar are you with the Council of Arcana?”

 

“Uh. Pretty familiar I’d say,” Arin says. 

 

“I’m going to make an appeal to them.”

 

“Mmm. Okay. And what appeal it that then?”

 

“I’m going to convince them to break the seal curse.”

 

There’s a heavy breath of silence, and then Ross breaks into a choked giggle. “Hah. Um. Right. Good plan.”

 

Dan only looks disappointed. “Is that really your plan, Brian? Break the seal curse?”

 

“I know damn well how it sounds, but I need you all to hear me out.”

 

“How the heck will breaking the curse help us?” Holly speaks up, throwing her hands in the air. “Not even counting the part where you miraculously do this thing you’re suggesting.”

 

“Puritans can’t target seers when everyone else can see them too,” Brian counters. 

 

“You realize that’s insane, right? Like, I know you know how insane it is, but do you know how  _ insane _ this is?”

 

“It’s not just insane, it’s  _ stupid _ .” Ross quips.

 

“Would you listen for a goddamn second?” Brian snaps. “Think about it. Would it not be better if the seal was gone?”

 

“Maybe, maybe not, this is kind of a huge decision to just  _ make _ .”

 

“This is in no way spur-of-the-moment. I’ve been trying at this for years.”

 

“Why do you think it will work now?”

 

“Because I’ll have help, I’ll have  _ you _ , don’t you understand? This isn’t something anyone can do alone, but together we might have a chance.”

 

“How exactly are you planning on doing this?” Dan finally speaks up, voice clear and steady.

 

“Like I said, I’m going to make an appeal.”

 

“I doubt this is the first time you’ve done this.”

 

“No, you’re right. But it’s too much work for one person. The ritual alone requires an exuberant amount of time, strength and artifacts. And that’s only if we get permission from the council.”

 

Arin groans. “What you’re describing is a quest. Are you honest to god making us go an a fucking quest with you.”

 

In a brief flash of bravery, Ross steps out from behind Dan. “Right, yeah, that’s the other thing. Just how is the fancy wizard circle gunna give you permission to do this thing?”

 

Brian shakes his head. “You don’t understand. The council  _ wants _ the seal to break. But the laws of the curse don’t allow them to do it themselves. They’ve been trying to recruit fey for centuries.”

 

“I find it hard to believe we’re the first people to ever attempt this.” Arin crosses his arms.

 

“Most fey aren’t in love with giving up such a huge advantage. But no, we’re not. Countless people have tried.”

 

“And what makes you think we’re gonna be the ones to, lemme say this again, _ break the seal curse _ .”

 

Brian looks apprehensive for the first time since arriving. “There... May or may not be a prophecy involved.”

 

Arin groans, louder this time. “Perfect. A prophecy quest. Do we need to pick up any cursed rings on the way there, or…”

 

“If that is something required for the ritual, I won’t rule it out.”

 

“Arin, what do you have against questing?” Ross arches an eyebrow at Arin.

 

“I have this thing called a  _ job _ , Ross.  _ You _ have a job.”

 

“You won’t have a job for much longer if you’re dead.” Brian pretends to be interested in his cuticles.

 

Arin opens his mouth, and then Dan puts a gentle hand on his back, and he closes it.

 

“What do you need us to do, Brian?” Dan asks, voice quiet and so different than what Arin is used to hearing.

 

“I need you to come with me to the council headquarters,” Brian says. “I have an SUV. It should fit all of you.”

 

“But what are we doing specifically? If heavy lifting is involved you can count me out.” Ross makes a vague gesture towards his general stringiness.

 

“No, what we’re doing won’t require too much physical strength. But your mental and arcane strengths will be pushed to the limit.”

 

“Sorry Ross,” Arin mutters. Dan kicks him lightly.

 

“I will need your help finding the remaining artifacts and assisting me with the ritual. Strix, Danny, I’ll need your help with the incantation itself.”

 

“Yeesh,” Dan says impulsively.

 

“Something wrong?”

 

Dan rubs his shoulder. “Magic isn’t really… my strong point. It’s… a halfling thing, I guess.”

 

Brian regards him for a moment. “Can you use magic at all?”

 

“I mean. Yeah.”

 

Brian nods once, curtly. “That will have to do. We can’t be picky here.”

 

“How long will we be gone?” Holly asks.

 

“Hard to say. From the most liberal of standards I don’t expect any less than a month.”

 

“And you want us to leave our jobs for that long? Our families?”

 

“Well, actually Strix. You aren’t obligated to come.” Brian turns to face Holly. “The Puritans only know four out of the five of us exist. As far as they’re concerned, you can go scott-free. Unless, of course, you choose to assist us.”

 

It’s very quiet for a moment, and Holly’s mouth gapes as she stares at Brian.

 

“H...Strix.” Ross corrects himself before he says her name. “I can’t ask you to do this.”

 

“The incantation,” Holly says quietly. “It’s impossible to do without me, isn’t it.”

 

“Finding someone with as much manna as you in such a small amount of time would be… immeasurably difficult, yes.”

 

“...How much time do we have to think on it?”

 

Brian raises an arm and checks his watch. “About five minutes.”

 

“Aw shit, okay. Group meeting in Arin’s room, let’s go.” Ross waves an arm, ushering them towards the hallway. Arin hangs back awkwardly, glancing between Brian and Ross’ retreating back. 

 

“Uh. You can sit on the couch if you want. We’ll be right back.”

 

“Please, take your time.” Arin has no idea how to label Brian’s tone, so he simply catches up with the group and leaves the room.

  
  


Arin’s room is not big enough for Arin, let alone Arin and three other people. He’s pressed shoulder-to-shoulder with Dan as the four of them glance at each other's faces.

 

“Holly.” Ross is the first to speak. “What’re you thinking right now?”

 

Holly groans burying her head in her hands. “I don’t know, I don’t know. I want to help, I really do but…”

 

“We understand, Holly. I want you to be safe more than anything.” Dan’s voice is assuring, and Arin wonders how much he means it.

 

“I just don’t know how much we can trust him, is the thing. Why is he so willing to cross his own gang?”

 

“I grew up with him,” Dan says. “I can’t say how willing he is now, but when we were kids he hated the Puritans more than anything. If he says he can stop them I have to believe him.”

 

“But what if it's all a trap, and he's going to drive us to a cliff to dump us off of?”

 

“Here's where my head is at right now,” Ross says, holding up his hands. “We go with him, and it's four against one. Push comes to shove I think we could beat him in a fight. We stay here and kick him to the curb, it's four against god knows how many sonsabitches are after our hides. Plus I'm pretty sure he's not making us pay for gas.”

 

“Dammit Ross, that's a good fucking point,” Arin mumbles.

 

“So I guess the only question is if Holly wants to come with us?” Dan asks, and suddenly all eyes are on Holly.

 

“... Yes. Yes, I'll go.”

 

“Are you sure? Because no one's making you come.”

 

“I'm sure. If I'm being honest this whole “questing” thing is super up my alley. Who knows, it might be fun.”

 

Ross let's out a  _ whoop _ , and shouts “Road trip!” 

 

There's a harsh knock on the door, and Brian's voice can be heard through the thin wood. “I couldn't help but overhear your verdict, and while I'm happy for your conclusion we need to go  _ now _ .”

 

“We're leaving so soon?” Holly says, rising from her seat on Arin’s bed.

 

“Soon as in two banshees just pulled into the parking lot.”


	8. Old Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life on the road is tough when ppl are after ur ass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should mention I have never been to LA in my life so any and all geography is totally made up

“Pack only essentials.” Brian’s voice rings clear over the din of panic seeped through the apartment. Everyone scrambles and races to different corners of the room, grabbing everything they can carry. “I’ll buy you clothes if I have to. We’re taking the fire escape.”

 

Dan has been living out of a bag for the last two weeks, so he simply lugs his satchel over his shoulder and rushes to the balcony. Arin snatches his phone, wallet, and sketchpad. As an afterthought, he skids into the kitchen and grabs his portable radio. Ross disappears into his room and emerges with a backpack he hurriedly tries stuffing an extra hoodie into. Holly only brought her phone, which she quickly picks up off the arm of the couch and joins Dan. Brian is already climbing down the fire escape, glancing anxiously around them. “Make sure to shut the door behind you,” He calls.

 

Arin is the last one out, and nods as he quickly slides the glass door closed. His apartment is three stories up, and he swallows any fear he has as he shimmies down the thin ladder as fast as his legs will allow, nearly kicking Ross in the head several times. At the bottom, he forgoes the last few feet of ladder in favor of dropping to the concrete with a heavy  _ thud _ . 

 

“Hey!” a briefly disembodied voice shouts from the parking lot before two burly silhouettes appear from the other side of the building.

 

“Fuck!” Ross screeches.

 

“This way!” Brian hisses urgently, racing down the alley they find themselves in. Their collective footfalls make a thunderous clapping sound that bounces between the walls of the surrounding buildings as they frantically evade their pursuers. But the banshees are fast, and Arin hasn't exercised since 8th grade. Arin’s heart hammers in his throat and he doesn’t think he’s ever been this scared in his life. “Strix!” Brian barks. “A spell of some kind would be  _ lovely _ right about now!”

 

“Right!” Holly wheezes, nearly tripping several times as she attempts to cast over her shoulder. Arin watches wide-eyed as one of the faeries nearly freezes in mid air, limbs moving as if they were in a slow-motion scene. However, Arin doesn’t have much time to look, as the other faerie is very much still gaining on them.

 

Dan locks eyes with Arin, who is now falling behind at the tail of the group, and quickly turns back and slaps his hands over his ears. After a few agonizing seconds he removes them, and his ears have been replaced by long, translucent fins. Brian yells something unintelligible as Dan skids to a stop, facing the approaching thug head-on.

 

“What are you-” Arin shouts, but is quickly cut off by Dan speaking. Except… he isn’t speaking.

 

“ _ Sprawling on the fringes of the city _

_ In geometric order _

_ An insulated border _

_ In between the bright lights, _ ”

 

“Are you singing a  _ Rush song _ ?” Arin bawks.

 

“Cover your ears!” Holly shouts. Arin has the presence of mind to obey, as well as the rest of the group, but the faerie pursuer is not as lucky.

 

The group watches slack-jawed as the banshee slows to a stop, blinking and staring at Dan with heavy lids. Steadily, like a cat circling prey, Dan walks forward until the two are face-to-face, all the while singing and smiling a smile Arin doesn’t think he ever wants directed towards him.

 

Eventually Dan finishes his chorus, and waves a hand in front of the faerie’s face. The Faerie blinks, but otherwise is completely responseless. Dan turns back to the group, smiling a genuine smile and gives a thumbs-up.

 

Brian sighs. “You really gotta tell me before you do these things.”

 

“Yes Brian, you’re welcome for saving our asses. How very kind of you to thank me.”

 

Arin runs to his side. “So what, is he brain dead now?”

 

“No, but for the next-” Dan checks his watch. “Hour and a half I basically own him. How’s it going, my man?” Dan asks the faerie.

 

“I love you,” says the faerie.

 

“Creepy.” Arin makes a face.

 

“Tell him to walk into oncoming traffic.” Brian glares with his arms crossed.

 

“Brian!” Holly chides. 

 

“He’ll still try to kill us once he snaps out of it,” Brian argues.

 

Dan purses his lips, tapping his chin as he thinks on a solution. “What do you think, Arin?”

 

“Uh,” Arin says eloquently. “Why don’t you tell him to try and take down the gang leader?” 

 

Dan raises his eyebrows and grins. “I like that. Hey buddy?” He turns to the faerie.

 

“I love you,” he says.

 

“Ah, I know you do. Say, would you mind doing my friends and me a favor?”

 

“I love you.”

 

“That’s what I like to hear. Lemme ask you a question, who is the guy you work for?”

 

“Don’t know real name. We only call him. The patriarch.”

 

“Oooo, kind of a secretive guy, huh? Listen, we’re going to need you to kill him, is that ok with you?”

 

The faerie nods.

 

“Great! If you could do that ASAP that would be fantastic.”

 

With jerky, unnatural movements, the faerie turns on a heel, and starts marching in the direction he came.

 

“Alright, let’s get moving,” Dan mutters, this time silently taking Arin’s hand as the group breaks into a run once more.

 

After weaving through the consecutive twists and turns the alley takes, Brian finally backs up against the brick of a Wells Fargo. His breathing is labored as he peeks around and looks up and down the street. “Okay,” he pants. “I parked across that street. See the gray one?” He points to an almost plain-looking car hidden partially by the shade of an elm. “We need to cross the street. We’ll be out in the open, so we need to be fast. Wait for the street to clear.” He holds a hand up, squinting as he watches the cars roll past.

 

“Now! Go, go, go!”

 

The group has no choice but to follow as Brian sprints into traffic. From up the street a man slams the brakes and blares his horn, but Arin can pay him no mind as he races towards Brian’s car. “It’s unlocked, get in!” Brian shouts, wrenching the driver’s door open and climbing in. Dan jumps into the passenger’s seat, and Arin runs to the other side and gets in behind Dan. Holly is the last to get in, and she doesn’t even get the door closed before Brian backs up and peels out of his parking space.

 

The atmosphere in the car is almost vibrating with nervous energy; tense and scared yet immeasurably accomplished and relieved. It’s dead silent and Brian’s car rumbles along the pavement, going just enough over the speed limit to be worrisome. 

 

It's mid-afternoon and the summer sun reflects harshly against the sidewalk, but Brian's windows are tinted so it's easier for the group to distract themselves by staring out at the city they once considered safe. It adds to the irrational sense of security the car brings.

 

“Um. Do you think it's possible to stop at my apartment? That… should be safe, right?” Holly is the first to break the silence, distractedly turning and tossing her phone between her hands.

 

Brian glances back before nodding. “That should be fine. I need to make a stop as well. What's the address?”

 

“Chinden Boulevard? It's on the south side. It's the big green building.”

 

Brian silently merges onto the far right lane and flashes his turn signal. “Now that I know where you live can I get a name from you?” Brian's eyes meet Holly’s in the rearview mirror.

 

“Oh, yeah. It's Holly.”

 

“Very nice to have you on board, Holly.”

 

Holly's laugh is quiet and just a little bit forced.

 

“So,” Arin says. “After Holly’s apartment we're going… where, exactly?”

 

“Like I said, there's one stop I still need to make before we leave. After that we'll be going to the council headquarters, which is stationed North of here. Far North. We're talking Washington.”

 

Arin whistles low. “That's quite a drive.”

 

“Let's hope it's worth it.”

 

“So, what's this stop you need to make?” Holly asks.

 

Brian sighs. “I should have told you earlier. There's someone else coming with us on this trip, someone absolutely crucial to the process.”

 

“We didn't agree for anyone else to get involved,” Arin protests, scowling at the back of Brian's head.

 

“I know, I know. But she is trustworthy, and we won't be able to do this without her.”

 

“It's just one person, right?” Dan says.

 

Brian nods, and Dan shoots a quick reassuring smile over his shoulder. Arin acknowledges this, but still sighs as he leans back in his seat.

 

Holly makes quick work of her apartment, Ross tagging along while the others wait in the car. None of them like the idea of being sitting ducks, so Dan and Arin distract themselves by talking.

 

“We’ll never find out who won that Mario Kart race,” Arin says, leaning forward and resting an arm on Dan's seat. 

 

Dan chuckles. “You think Ross could've made a comeback?”

 

“No. But I would've liked to see him loose. I can never win against that asshole.”

 

“Maybe we'll get another chance. Although I doubt I’d be able to do it again. That was like, the dumbest of luck.”

 

Arin hums, turning briefly towards Brian. “Do you think they’re gonna loot my place, Brian? I have a pretty sick entertainment system.”

 

“I honestly don't know. Their goal was to kill you, so I don't see why they'd have a problem taking anything.” Brian sighs, running a crease in his forehead. “I'm so sorry, Arin. I should've gotten to you sooner, you might've had time to save your things.”

 

Arin laughs quietly, bitterness only a little evident. “Yeah, well. I'm alive at least. And I gave my cats to a neighbor, so they should be ok. Maybe once this is over I can file an insurance claim.”

 

Brian considers this, jaw tight as he continues to survey the street around them.

 

“You really did save our asses, Brian. And I have to thank you for that.” 

 

Brian makes a  _ hmph _ noise. “Don't thank me yet. You can thank me once all of this is over. You still aren't safe.”

 

“Well, I'm alive now, I’d say that's significantly better than what might've happened if you hadn't showed up.”

 

“...You’re welcome,” Brian says hesitantly.

 

Brian’s side door clicks open, and Ross hefts a small bag into the back of the car before pulling himself in, followed shortly by Holly. 

 

“I brought a phone charger, if any of you need it,” Holly says.

 

“Also some Pepto Bismol tablets,” Ross adds.

 

“Ooh, nice, lemme have one,” Arin raises a hand.

 

“Thank you Holly, that’s very considerate of you.” Brian says quietly, turning right onto a smaller neighborhood.

 

Arin pops the pink tablet, and pauses when he thinks of something. “Oh, hey, what's this woman’s name? The one joining us?” Arin asks.

 

“Her name is Suzy. She and I have been working together on this project for quite some time. Arin, you might have to get out so she'll have room to sit behind you.”

 

Arin swallows, hard. “O-okay.” Un-latching his seatbelt, Arin takes a long look at the squat brick house they find themselves in front of.  _ Suzy is a very common name _ , he tells himself. 

 

“Get out and put the seat down. We're kind of on a schedule, here.” Brian's tone is strange, but Arin doesn't think much of it as he opens the door and does as he's told.

 

He's getting Ross to help him when he hears the sound of a door open, then close, and when he turns around he thinks he can hear his world tilt on its axis. His stomach twists something fierce because she's running down her driveway with her bag on her shoulder and she's  _ Suzy _ and she's  _ here _ and she looks at Arin with a resolution that doesn't even seem surprised he's holding the door for her. 

 

“Hi I'm Suzy!” She shouts, clambering into the back with as much grace as someone can possibly have climbing over a chair.

 

“I'm Holly, nice to meet you.” Holly is all smiles as she greets the newcomer, not even noticing the silent conversation happening between Arin and Ross.

 

Arin stares wide-eyed at Ross, who in turn raises his eyebrows and subtly nods towards Suzy. Arin nods his head, and blinks rapidly as he lifts his seat back up and shuts the door behind them. 

 

“Suzy, this is Danny, Holly, Ross and Arin. Make nice. We have a long drive ahead of us.”

 

_ Understatement of the year _ , Arin thinks as he slumps back in his seat.

 

“Brian, would it kill you to put the radio on?” Dan asks, and Arin silently praises him. He doesn’t know how how much more awkward silence he could handle.

 

Brian puts on what can only be described as a station for old people, and Dan wrinkles his nose and switches it to an 80s hits station. It helps Arin relax, swaying his foot along to Freddie Mercury as Los Angeles flies past his window.

 

“We can stop at a gas station once we get a few miles out from the city,” Brian informs, and a couple people hum in acknowledgement.

 

It’s the last thing anyone says for a good ten miles, the thick of the city starting to dilute into smaller suburbs and warehouse districts. It somehow makes Arin feel safe and terrified at the same time.

 

He thinks of his parents back in Florida, going about their normal lives without a clue their son was doing the stupidest thing he’s ever done in his life. What would they do if he just suddenly stopped talking to them? Who would tell them what had happened if he were to die on a bullshit live action D&D campaign? 

 

He’s pulled from his thoughts when he feels his phone buzz in his pocket.

 

ROSS: is that really ur ex

 

Arin looks up and meets Ross’ questioning stare, and hesitantly nods. Ross ducks back to his phone.

 

ROSS: i can see y u were so hung up on her

 

On his lap, so no one else can see it, Arin holds up a middle finger.

 

The Shell station is busy, and Brian has to wait in line to get gas. “Go inside while I fill the tank. Get as much snacks as you can.”

 

Arin lets the seat down once again so Suzy can get out, and the five of them make their way into the convenience store. Arin almost instinctively follows Dan into the chips and assorted nuts aisle, and plucks up a couple bags of cashews.

 

Dan rubs one of his eyes and sighs. “I’m so tired I can’t even think of a nut joke. That’s when you know it’s bad.”

 

Arin hums, pointing at one of the bags. “Mmm. I love salty nuts in the morning.”

 

Dan groans. “See? The fruit couldn’t be hanging any lower. I must be coming down with something.”

 

“My nuts couldn’t be hanging any lower.”

 

“My god, you’re incredible.”

 

“Fucking comedy mastermind, that’s me.” 

 

Dan giggles, glancing out the window where Brian’s car is finally pulling up to a gas thingy. “Hey, I gotta take a leak real quick, you have fun with your nuts.”

 

Arin salutes with a smirk, and watches Dan jog over to the restrooms.

 

“Hi there.”

 

Arin nearly jumps out of his skin at the voice behind him, almost dropping his cashews as he whirls around to look at the woman standing behind him. “Oh, h-hey Suzy. What’s. What’s up?”

 

Suzy stifles a laugh as she watches him fumble, and covers it up with a cough. “Uh, nothing, it’s just. It’s really good to see you.”

 

“Oh. Yeah, um. You too.” If god was at all merciful he would have killed Arin on the spot.

 

“I didn’t think you would agree to come with us. I was worried.”

 

“Wait, so, you knew I was coming?”

 

“...Brian didn’t tell you?” Suzy knits her brow, her puzzled look a little too familiar for Arin’s liking.

 

“Tell me what?”

 

Suzy looks around the tiny store, decides something in her head, and quickly turns back to Arin. “Listen, can we talk later? I have a lot I need to tell you and we don’t really have time right now.”

 

“Uh. Sure.”

 

Suzy’s smile is small, but it’s bright in the presence of her sharp, white teeth. “It really is good to see you.” she says. And then she’s gone, leaving Arin alone and confused in the chip and assorted nuts aisle. 

 

“Arin?”

 

This time Arin does drop his cashews as a voice speaks up behind him, but long fingers catch them before they hit the ground. 

 

“Easy there.” Dan smiles, handing the bag back to Arin. “You ready to check out yet? Brian should be nearly done.”

 

Arin clears his throat. “Yeah, okay.” 

  
The long hand placed subtly on his shoulder feels much heavier than it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided for Holly and other magical friends we're gonna play by D&D rules- you can only cast a spell on one person at a time for certain spells, and all spells will be based on D&D spells. Except Dan, because I don't actually know if siren is a D&D race? If it is lemme know and I'll fix it


	9. Northwestern Charm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang has a lovely night at a motel. Suzy and Arin have a chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey yall no spoilers but egobang is the endgame ship I don't want y'all to worry

“Are you an animal?”

 

“No.”

 

“Mineral?”

 

“No. Does anyone ever really pick mineral?”

 

“Person?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Goddammit Dan, would you stop picking people? No one knows who the fuck you’re talking about.”

 

“No, no, you guys know this one!”

 

“Are you currently alive?”

 

“Yes. At least, I think so. Pretty sure.”

 

“Are you an actor?”

 

“No.”

 

“Singer?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Fuck, it could be anybody then.”

 

“Do you need a hint already?”

 

“No hints! Are you a man?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Are you like. An old man?”

 

“Yes. You’re getting closer.”

 

“Are you a talk show host?”

 

“Nuh-uh.”

 

From the back, Suzy lifts her head for the first time in a while. “Are you current vice president Joe Biden?”

 

Dan twists around to look at Suzy, obviously impressed. “Damn, yeah I am, how’d you know?”

 

“Lucky guess.” Suzy smiles, and promptly goes back to her notebook.

 

“Suzys too good at this game!” Ross complains, crossing his arms and leaning back with a huff.

 

“You can go next, you big baby,” Holly soothes, smiling and rubbing Ross’ arm.

 

Arin risks a glance behind him, catching the familiar curtain of black hair- much shorter now than he remembers it being- and thin hands scrawling quickly in her small moleskine notebook. He’s not sure what she’s writing- he’s too nervous to ask- but whatever it is it’s had her attention for nearly an hour now.

 

“Arin,” Brian says.

 

Arin’s head snaps forward.

 

“You’ve been awful quiet. Something on your mind?”

 

In his periphery, Arin can see Suzy glance up. God, if he could only see her expression.

 

“No I… I’m fine. A lots happened today is all.”

 

“We’re almost at the motel,” Dan offers with a reassuring smile. Arin offers a smile in return, but it feels awkward on his face.

 

On Arin’s left the afternoon sun dips dangerously towards the flat expanse of farmland, the sky ahead of them a deep blue getting darker by the second. The tips of sparsely placed evergreens are capped with golden sunlight, as well as long abandoned barns barely more than a few propped-up pieces of lumber. Arin feels his eyelids drooping, and he rubs his face with a deep sigh. Holly and Dan had already taken brief naps a few hours into the drive, and their banter keeps Arin grounded enough not to drift off. As tired as he is, Arin doesn’t feel comfortable enough to sleep until he can rest in a hotel with a lock on it.

 

“Ok, we should be coming up to it… there!” Dan, glancing up from his phone’s navigation app, points a finger towards a broad neon sign rising above a small forest town. The strip is nestled between a general store and a bar, which Arin makes a note to check out in the morning as Brian pulls in front of the check-in.

 

“Wait here,” Brian mutters before popping the door open and heading inside.

 

Through the slit above a cracked window, Arin can hear the buzz of crickets and cars on the highway. Nightfall makes him uneasy without the protection of four walls and a locked door, but the sounds of the forest makes his shoulders loosen just a fraction. It’s worse now without Brian, but at the same time Brian makes Arin nervous. It’s a nifty lose-lose paradox.

 

Brian returns with a handful of door keys as he gets back in the car to drive it into the parking space. “I got two rooms,” says Brian. “Suzy and I are sharing one. The rest of you chucklefucks are going to have a little sleepover.”

 

Arin makes a face involuntarily. _Is Suzy dating Brian?_ He risks another glance back at Suzy, but she doesn’t look up from her notebook. She and Brian had barely talked for the entire trip- if they were dating, they certainly didn’t act like it. Then again, what does he know about Suzy? He hasn’t seen her in almost ten years. For all he knew, Suzy could be dating the prime minister of France.

 

Ross clumsily catches a key tossed at him, and Arin does the same. He looks up to see Brian pointing right, down the long line of green painted doors. “You guys are room 16. We’ll be right next door in 15. If somebody tries to kill you we can hear you scream.”

 

Brian has a weird sense of humor, Arin muses.

 

The room is an expected musky mediocre with a tacky woodland flourish. A box TV rests on a thick wooden stand at the foot of two queen sized beds. Faded blue wallpaper is lined with paintings of mountains and rivers Arin can faintly make out in the light from the window. Dan is the one to flick the light switch on, and one or two stray gnats orbit and bounce against the fixture.

 

“Alright, goodnight, goodbye. Ross O’Donovan is done with today. See you all later.” Ross makes a beeline for the bed farthest from the door, the tail end of his sentence muffled as he flops face-first onto a pillow.

 

Arin doesn’t really feel like making eye contact with Dan when Holly follows Ross and leaves the closest bed to the two of them. Instead, he drops his shit on the bed and makes his way to the small bathroom off to the side. “I’m gonna take a shower,” he mumbles.

 

The bathroom is just as nice as the bedroom. It’s clean, and functional; but nothing you would see in a Better Homes & Gardens catalog. Arin strips as he runs the tap until it heats up, and the tub he gingerly steps into is a dull yellow. He leaves the shower curtain cracked an inch- he’s seen _Psycho_ and he’s not surviving a gang attack only to be stabbed in a shitty motel.

 

He can feel the tension in his shoulders loosen the second the hot water hits his skin. The sigh he lets out is echoed in the small linoleum room, shaky and exhausted as he cards his fingers through his hair. In the secluded bathroom he can finally allow his mind to revisit, combing back through the day’s events like a critic watching a Steven Spielberg film. To think, this morning all he had to worry about way replacing the smoke alarm batteries and not getting his friends killed. Now he has to worry about not getting his friends killed while they hurtle 80 miles further from home with each passing hour with a gang leader in their car.

 

He's still not completely convinced Brian isn't totally full of shit. But he's kept the four of them out of harm thus far, which is more than Arin can say about himself. Brian could very well have ulterior motives, but without his help there's no guarantee they would still all be in one piece.

 

The provided soaps smell like retirement home, but it feels glorious to wash the day's grime from Arin’s hair and body. He appreciates the ritual of it, providing some kind of familiarity in this place he’s found himself in. By the time he twists off the tap he feels drowsy, but inexplicably strong, like he could take on the world despite being half asleep. He feels… ready. For what, he isn't sure.

 

He grimaces at having to put his sweaty clothes back on, and hopes tomorrow he'll be able to buy a t-shirt or something at the general store. He emerges from the bathroom in a thin cloud of steam, dressed in only a shirt and boxers as he towels off his hair.

 

Holly and Ross are already asleep, curled back-to-back under the thin cotton sheets. Dan is in a similar state, leaving enough room for Arin as he sleeps on his stomach. Something in Arin’s chest makes a sharp turn, and he swallows thickly and moves over to the bed. When he turns the bathroom light off he takes a second for his eyes to adjust, but there’s a porchlight somewhere outside their window that makes the trip easier.

 

He’s careful not to touch Dan and jostle him as he slides slowly into bed. The sheets are predictably just a little too thin to be totally satisfactory, but Arin settles in nonetheless, his back to Dan as he stares at the door through the dark. He’s tired- exhausted, even. But even when he shuts his eyes his brain refuses to give it a rest. In his mind the faces of the banshee thugs replay over and over, snarling and shouting and reaching their hands towards him; towards his friends.

 

He tries to toss and turn as gently as possible, as to not stir Dan, but when the small analog clock resting on the nightstand blinks ‘1:37’ he gets the sinking feeling slumber might be a bit of a lost cause. Eventually Arin finally tosses the sheets aside and slowly sits up, placing his bare feet on the cool hardwood. As quietly as he can, he reenters the bathroom and puts on his sweatpants and a jacket before slipping out into the night outside. It’s stupid as hell, not to mention dangerous, and Arin knows it. But the cool forest air against his face feels like he just was released from a plastic bag.

 

A low wooden railing lines the outer edge of the porch, which Arin leans his forearms against as he breathes deeply through his nose. The passing cars are less frequent now, but the occasional car still disrupts the steady chirping of crickets. On top of that is the low hum of a radiator working somewhere Arin can’t see, most likely on the roof or the side of the building.

 

He wishes he wasn’t awake. But at the same time he knows if he wasn’t awake he wouldn’t be able to see the vast expanse of stars untouched by LA pollution sprawling endlessly above his head. He knows the situation is garbage. But this… this is okay.

 

Arin hears the faint click of a door opening, and when he turns back he sees it isn’t room 16, but room 15.

 

Suzy’s feet are bare as she gingerly steps out onto the porch, wrapped in a thick quilt she must have brought from home. Haloing her head is her familiar violet aura, just barely visible in the light of the moon and sparsely placed street lamps. As she carefully closes the door behind her and makes her way over to his perch on the railing, Arin wonders why he isn’t surprised in the slightest to see her.

 

“Beautiful night, isn’t it? You don’t usually see the stars in the city.” Her smile is evident, even if her voice is low.

 

Arin doesn’t reply, opting instead to stare at her for a moment before following her gaze into the sky.

 

“You remember the stars from Florida, don't you? When it wasn't too cloudy to see.”

 

“You said you had something to tell me.” Arin's voice isn't harsh, but it feels ragged in his throat. Suzy is smiling when he looks back at her.

 

“I have a lot of things to tell you. Probably more than what we have time for right now.”

 

“You can start with what you’re doing living six blocks from my apartment.”

 

Suzy chuckles. “Small world, huh? Would it be less creepy if I told you I had no idea you lived in LA either?”

 

“Somehow I find that hard to believe.”

 

“Okay, well, I did know, but I didn't know when I first moved in.”

 

Arin groans. “God, you're just like Brian, being all cryptic and shit. When did you guys get so chummy?”

 

“Yeah, that's. That one's kind of a long story. Kind of part of why we're here in the first place.”

 

“I’ve got all night. Well, not really, but if you could give me a little bit of insight it’d be much appreciated.”

 

“I’ll tell you, don’t worry. I already feel pretty bad leaving you in the dark like this.” Suzy huffs as she tucks a lock of unstyled hair behind her ear. “It was after I left Florida,” she starts. “ I had just finished high school and no feasible future planned out for me. I was lost, and confused, and depressed. I wouldn’t leave my house for days at a time, and eventually one day I just got sick of it. I didn't tell anyone but my parents I was getting on a bus the next morning and I had no idea where it would take me. I packed all of my things and was gone before anyone knew I was leaving.”

 

“Jeez,” Arin breathes, eyes wide.

 

Suzy shrugs. “I did what I had to. Or felt I had to, I guess. It was like… I dunno. Like it was just knowledge that I had that this was what I was supposed to do. Have you ever felt like that?”

 

Arin presses his mouth to a thin line. “Can’t say I have,” Arin answers honestly.

 

“I’m probably not making any sense.”

 

“No, no, it’s. I get what you’re saying. Continue the story,” Arin urges.

 

This time Suzy takes a deep breath before continuing. “I’d made it all the way to Ohio before my glamour spell finally ran out. You remember the one you bought for me?”

 

“God, that was ages ago. I had to sell my dreamcast to save up that much.”

 

“What? You didn’t tell me that!”

 

“Keep your voice down,” Arin giggles nervously. “I wanted to do something nice, okay?”

 

Suzy groans. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that the spell only lasted five years, just like it had promised. I was alone in some tiny town and suddenly most of the people there couldn’t even see me, so it wasn’t like I could get a hotel or anything. I was about to resort to sleeping on a bench when Brian just… showed up. Right when I needed him. He told me he was doing work for this mysterious company he worked for, and he’d be leaving for Montana in the morning. He offered to let me sleep in his hotel room, which in retrospect was a really stupid offer to take up because if he had tried to take advantage of me no one would even have been able to hear me scream. But Brian has a way of making you trust him, y’know?”

 

Arin snorts. “I’ve noticed that, yeah.”

 

“So I hitched a ride with him that next morning. It wasn’t easy, but once you get him to open up he’s a wonderful conversation partner. Smart as hell, too. After that he helped me pay for new glamour spells, and he helped me get my own place once we moved to LA.”

 

“So is he like your sugar daddy or what?” Arin jokes, and regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth. He grimaces as he watches Suzy scowl up at him.

 

“Brian and I are _not_ dating.”

 

Arin raises his hands defensively. “Right, sorry, sorry.”

 

“I like to call us ‘partners in crime’ but Brian hates fun and glares at me when I say that. He’s been my best friend for… gosh, almost eight years now.”

 

Arin whistles low. “Wow, has it really been… wow.”

 

“I know. Been awhile since high school, huh?”

 

“Yeah, right? Fuck.”

 

“But anyways, that’s not the point.” Suzy shakes her head as she waves her hands in little circles. “Brian was the one who told me about the seal curse. He knew a lot about it from his involvement with the UP, about its origins and how it functions. I knew it existed, of course, but I never knew it could be broken the way he had described. And as soon as he brought it up I felt the exact same way as I did about going away, like… Like this was something I was supposed to pursue. I got Brian to tell me everything he could about it, and I knew right then and there that this was what I was supposed to do with my life; this was my impact I was going to make on the world.”

 

“So this whole quest was _your_ idea?”

 

“That’s the thing though, it wasn’t my idea! Don’t you get it, I can never make a name for myself as an aimless faerie with no future, but this was what I was _born_ to do!”

 

There’s a heavy pause between cricket chirps where Arin just stares at Suzy, finding himself in the presence of someone he knows so well and at the same time doesn’t know at all. This is not the teenage girl he fell in love with when he was young and stupid, but it’s her face that looks up at him now, brows lowered in the fiercest resolution he’s ever seen on a person.

 

“Why does this mean so much to you?” Arin whispers.

 

“I want things to be different,” Suzy says simply. “I don’t want anyone to go through what I went through.”

 

The paint on the railing is green, and it’s chipping severely where Arin studies it. He swallows, hard, before taking a deep breath. “I’ll try to help you,” he says. “As much as I can.”

 

Arin wonders if the glimmer in Suzy’s eyes is a trick of the light. “That’s all that I can ask of you.” Though her smile is small, it’s genuine, and warm in the cool mountain night.

 

The two of them take a moment to breathe, enjoying the night together in a kind of companionable silence as Suzy shifts a fraction closer. Arin thinks he can see brown bats flitting across the sky, and he focuses on trying to spot the quick silhouettes.

 

“You’ve gotten handsomer since high school, y’know that?”

 

This startles a giggle out of Arin. “That’s debatable.”

 

“No really! I like this.” Reaching out a hand, Suzy scratches Arin’s modest beard. “It makes you look mature.”

 

Arin snorts. “Looks can be deceiving.”

 

Suzy’s laugh is restrained, as to not wake the others. “It really is good to see you, Arin. I missed talking to you.”

 

“Sorry.”

 

“For what?”

 

“For… not being good to you I guess.”

 

“Now that’s a talk for another time.” Suzy smiles as she pats Arin’s arm. “Get some rest, okay? We have a long day ahead of us.”

 

“Yeah okay,” Arin mumbles, watching Suzy retreat silently to her room. “...Goodnight.”

 

“Goodnight, Arin.” Suzy’s smile is the last thing he sees before he’s alone once again, miles from home and standing in front of a three star motel chain.

 

He goes back inside, and sleeps a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was originally gonna be more stuff in this chapter but it came to over 3000 words as it is so I had to cut it off here. Also I'm posting this from my phone so sorry if any of the formatting is weird


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